


monferrina

by littleleotas



Series: Hypatia Shepard [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Adoption, Babies, Big Happy Space Family, Destroy Ending, F/M, Genophage, Post-Mass Effect 3, Pregnancy, infertility/miscarriage warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-10-17 15:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleleotas/pseuds/littleleotas
Summary: The Normandy team is family, and after the Reaper War their family gets bigger in various ways.





	1. 2189

**Author's Note:**

> I think it's a well-known fact authors sometimes use writing to work through personal things; this is one of those things. I didn't want anyone to go into this unprepared, hence the tags. They are spoilers, but I don't want anyone to go into this expecting something you won't get. There is a happy ending, and it does not involve Hypatia Shepard sustaining a pregnancy. There will not be a magical pregnancy fix. She is not less of a mom to her adopted children, and they are not less of her children. Biology isn't the important thing, here. It never was for Shepard and Garrus, and it won't be for their children. Again, this is me working through personal things, and I'm aware that means this isn't for everyone; with that in mind, I do request that you respect that and not try to give me magical fixes for problems - real problems - without real solutions. If this isn't your cup of tea, that's completely fair and totally fine; we'll just go along in our own separate worlds and we'll both be happy.

"Ambassador?”

Shepard pressed the button to answer the intercom. “Yes, Riella?”

“The Primarch is on vidcom.”

“Thank you.”

Shepard pulled up the vidcom interface. “A business call, is it?”

“I suppose so,” said Garrus.

Shepard smiled. “Fire away, babe.”

“I got a call from the Turian councillor after your meeting today.”

Shepard sighed deeply, rolling her eyes. “Maxentius is getting on my very last nerve.”

“I know. I think I can sway him, though.”

“Good. Until we get the krogan on the Council it’s just going to continue being dead-locked.”

“He suggested booting humans off the Council instead.”

“Of course he did.”

“Have you called Wrex?”

“Not yet.” Shepard closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead where a headache was brewing. “Spirits, it’s been three years. I can’t believe this is taking so long.”

“Don’t tell me you thought saving the galaxy would make people listen to you.”

“Ha.”

“Listen, don’t talk to Wrex just yet. Let me deal with Maxentius and we’ll come up with a plan.”

“Okay.”

“What are we doing for dinner?”

“I vote ordering burritos.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“And don’t you forget it, Primarch.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Shepard blew a kiss and closed the channel. She leaned back in her chair, sighing again as she stared at the dots on the ceiling. Garrus was right; why she had expected people to let go of old prejudices and listen to her just because she saved the galaxy was anyone’s guess. She always had too much faith in people.

Three years since the end of the Reaper War, and still the Council remained intransigent. She had assumed a krogan seat on the Council was a given, but the vote remained two for (human and asari) and two against (salarian and turian). The salarian councillor was a lost cause, but she was married to the Primarch. There had to be a way to tip the scales with the turian councillor.

She was sick over it, mostly for Wrex’s sake. After all the work he had done, after all the work they had done together. The genophage was cured, the Council had granted the krogan five planets for colonisation in addition to outposts on other planets, but without a seat on the Council, the krogan were still begging for scraps. Sometimes she felt like she was as much their ambassador as humanity’s.

She rubbed her temple. The headache was migrating. She opened a drawer to take out some painkillers.

“Ambassador, the salarian councillor is on line two,” came Riella’s voice over the intercom.

“Tell him I’m in a conference call.”

“Should I take a message?”

“Don’t offer to unless he insists. I know what the message is.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Shepard could hear the smile in Riella’s voice.

~-~-~

Garrus clicked through the delivery menu on his omnitool. “What do you want in yours?”

“Meat. All of the meat.” Shepard pressed a warm washcloth to her forehead, trying to quell the now full-fledged headache.

“All of it?”

Shepard paused. “Double steak.”

Garrus nodded and continued clicking through. “Done. Should be here in 45 minutes.”

“Mmm.”

Garrus looked at her, his expression gentle and worried. “Can I get you anything?”

“A krogan on the Council.”

He chuckled. “No shop talk.”

She groaned loudly and rolled onto her side on the sofa.

“You know…we have 45 minutes…”

She turned her head and raised an eyebrow.

“And I can think of a way to cure that headache.”

“Oh can you,” she smirked.

He leaned over her as she returned to lying on her back and set her washcloth on the table.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him in closer as she kissed him.

He kept himself propped up on one hand and put his other on her waist as they continued kissing. He pushed the hem of her shirt up gradually, running his fingers over the soft skin underneath. She moaned appreciatively, raising her good leg to hook around his back. He pressed his face into her neck, nipping softly.

She pushed herself up to pull off her shirt and Garrus reached around her back to unhook her bra. He helped her lie back down with a hand behind her head, and, once she was re-settled, after one more nip at the base of her neck, slowly ran his tongue over her nipple. The fingers of his free hand traced her waist softly, causing her to gasp quietly.

He moved his hand up to her other nipple, first gently stroking, then pinching. He increased the pressure from his tongue in time with her panting gasps. He raised his head to kiss her again, and whispered, “Can I go down on you?”

“Please,” she whispered back.

He unfastened her pants and she helped him pull them off, carefully easing them over her prosthetic leg.

After tossing her pants aside, he paused, unsure how to arrange them on the sofa. He tried to kneel at the end of the sofa, then tried to move her so he could kneel on the floor, and-

“Bed?” asked Shepard, smiling bemusedly.

“Bed.”

He picked her up and she put her arms around him.

“I can walk, you know.”

Garrus hummed in non-response, walking to the spare bedroom on the ground floor and setting her down on the bed. She pushed herself further toward the headboard and Garrus settled himself on his stomach between her legs.

She put a hand to the side of his face and he rose to kiss her again. She leaned back and he kissed his way down, nipping a bit at her thigh to make her gasp again before pressing his tongue flat into the heat of her. She sighed softly and he stroked her clit with his tongue.

_”Fuck,”_ she whispered, her fingers grasping at the sheets.

He kept a steady, slow rhythm until he felt her arching her hips against his face. He increased his pace to meet her, moving his tongue with alternating soft flicks and pressured licks. Her breathing grew shallower and he quickened his pace.

“Garrus,” she cried his name pleadingly, and he moaned at the sound of her.

He flicked his tongue rapidly against her clit, pressing his face into her as she rocked her hips against him harder. She cried out as she came, legs trembling and hips jerking against Garrus’s face.

He hummed, kissing her inner thigh before sitting up and wiping his face off. “Feeling better?”

Shepard smiled dreamily. “Mmhm.”

The doorbell rang and Garrus kissed her forehead as he left the room to get their dinner.


	2. all things worth keeping

Garrus walked through the door of the turian embassy and the secretary looked up, her jaw dropping slightly in surprise.

“Uh, Primarch, sir, can I help you?”

“Is Maxentius in?”

“Yes, I don’t think he was expecting-“

“Didn’t feel like making an appointment. May I go in?”

“One moment. “ She pressed a button on the intercom on her desk. “Councillor? The Primarch is here to see you.”

“That’s fine,” Maxentius replied.

Garrus nodded at the secretary, then walked past into the councillor’s office.

“Pleasant surprise, sir,” said Maxentius, standing up to shake Garrus’s hand.

Garrus raised a brow plate, not unlike Shepard’s habit of raising one eyebrow, and shook the ambassador’s hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t make an appointment.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Maxentius said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. They both sat, and Maxentius folded his hands on top of his desk. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Change your vote on the krogan councillor.”

Maxentius sighed and shook his head, but Garrus continued before Maxentius could speak.

“That’s not a suggestion. The krogan are our friends and allies. Continuing to oppose their place on the Council threatens to undo all the work we’ve done during and after the war.”

“You mean the work your _wife_ has been doing.”

Garrus’s mandibles flicked open wide. “I think you’ll find I was there, too. And even if we hadn’t been, the krogan-turian alliance is what saved Palaven. You don’t have to like it, but you do have to treat our allies like they’re allies.”

“Simply being our allies doesn’t mean they deserve a spot on the council.”

“Look, I’m not interested in your personal feelings on the krogan. Your job is to represent turian interests to the Council-“

“And I’m not the only turian who doesn’t trust the krogan. You’ve worked with them, you should know how dangerous they are.”

“It’s _because_ of my work with them that I _trust_ them. It is in the interest of all turians – even the ones who don’t like krogan – to have happy allies. Especially krogan allies.”

“Sir, with all due respect-“

Garrus held up a hand as he stood up. “There is no ending to that sentence I’m interested in hearing. Change your vote. That’s not a request. Good day, Councillor.”

Garrus walked quickly from the embassy, trying not to let his temper get the better of him. It was _infuriating_ that people refused to let go of their old prejudices. He hadn’t been a fan of krogan when he first joined the Normandy, but he very quickly realised what a jerk he had been. Wrex was not only an incredible man and great friend, but a fantastic leader, and everything he’d done with the Normandy and for the krogan was beyond what anyone had thought was possible. The krogan that Maxentius and his ilk had problems with were a figment of their collective imagination. The monsters they were meant to have been were nothing more than myths. And real, present krogan were suffering for these delusions.

Garrus walked directly into a wall, realising too late his rage had blinded him. He sighed, and leaned his forehead against the wall. He knew he wasn’t cut out for this Primarch business.

“Rough day?”

Garrus turned around to see Armando Bailey looking at him with equal parts amusement and concern.

“Should we call it a rough day if it’s only 10:30?”

Bailey laughed. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Anything I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so. Not right now, anyway. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Sure thing. Hey, how’s your wife doing?”

“I think the diplomat life suits her more than she’d like to admit.”

“That sounds about right,” Bailey nodded.

“How are your kids?”

“Fine, fine. Still kind of can’t believe they survived.”

Garrus nodded thoughtfully. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

Bailey leaned closer to Garrus and lowered his voice. “I don’t mean to, uh – insinuate anything, but. If you and the Mrs. ever get around to kids? Keep them close.”

Garrus looked at him, frozen for a second, then nodded. “We will,” he said, quietly.

Bailey nodded his head curtly, stepping back. “See you around, Primarch.”

“See you,” said Garrus, his voice still soft and quiet.

~-~-~

Garrus returned to his office after a long walk around the Citadel. He sighed, sitting down at his desk, and began going through his messages. He stopped when he came across an email from Shepard.

Subject: !!  
From: AMB H. Shepard-Vakarian  
To: Primarch G. Shepard-Vakarian  
I don’t know what you did but Maxentius called a meeting to change his vote!!!!! I tried calling but you were out.

Garrus smiled and pulled up his omnitool to call her.

“Garrus!!” She answered enthusiastically.

“Hi, honey.”

“What happened? Did you talk to Maxentius? What did you do?”

“I-“

“You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

“No. I just talked to him.”

“Hmm.”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Hey, I called Wrex and told him the good news. It’ll still be a bit before they officially appoint a councillor but in the mean-time we’re throwing a party.”

“Oh, good.”

“Could you sound less enthusiastic?”

“I could try.”

He could hear Shepard’s fond but exasperated smile. “It won’t be that bad.”

“I know.”

“I’ve got to go but I’ll fill you in at home. Thank you, for whatever you did.”

He shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

~-~-~

Garrus tapped his finger on his brandy glass as he stared out the window of their apartment. Even in the middle of the night, the living room could be completely illuminated by the city lights with the blinds open. He took a sip, his unfocused gaze not moving.

“You okay?”

He turned to see Shepard, his shirt falling off her shoulder and her long black curls tangled and wild. Her voice was gravely, betraying the fact she’d just woken up.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Just thinking.”

She dragged her feet as she walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his back. “’Bout what?”

He took another sip of brandy. “Thane, actually.”

“Mm.” She hugged him tighter.

“Every time I told him something was hard, he said-“

“’All things worth keeping are,’” Shepard finished his sentence.

“Yeah. I just keep hearing him in my head when I’m thinking about how hard things are. Still.”

“I suppose it was foolish of us to expect things to be easier now.”

“Maybe.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“It has to get easier sometime, though, right?” Garrus asked.

“I believe it will,” said Shepard.

He put a hand over hers, stroking her fingers with his thumb. “Then it will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have picked up on, Garrus and Hypatia dated Thane in the past. Just thought it was worth throwing out there.


	3. all you sinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids! This one's explicit.

The click of Shepard’s heels echoed through the hall, followed by the swish of her chiffon dress. She stopped, turning slightly to maximize the dress’s twirl, and took a flute of champagne from a server’s tray.

“This isn’t really what I had in mind when you said ‘party,’ Shepard.”

Shepard smiled, holding her arms out to Wrex as she approached, and he obliged her with a big hug, picking her up off the floor slightly.

“Ooh, don’t spill my drink,” she said, as he put her down.

“Ah, there’s more where that came from,” Wrex waved it off.

“Anyway,” she said, after taking a sip, “I didn’t think it wise to throw a rager when we’ve only barely convinced the Council you aren’t uncontrollable maniacs.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m plenty of fun. _Ambassador Shepard-Vakarian_ is no fun.”

“Speaking of no fun.” Wrex nodded as Garrus approached.

“That’s not nice, Wrex,” Shepard said, raising an eyebrow. Wrex chuckled.

She turned to Garrus as she linked her arm in his. “Hi, honey.” She reached up to kiss him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Unavoidable call from the dalatrass.”

“Good news, I’m assuming,” Wrex droned.

“You know salarians.” Garrus grabbed a drink from a passing server.

“Can we call it on business talk? I could do with a break,” sighed Shepard.

“Of course,” Garrus said, kissing the top of her head.

“Get a room.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at Wrex.

He chuckled. “Anyway, if we’re not talking business.”

“Hm?”

“When are you two coming to Tuchanka?”

Shepard sighed, looking up at Garrus. “Soon, I hope. As soon as we can get away.”

“You’re the Primarch, aren’t you? Declare a national holiday,” Wrex gestured to Garrus.

“That’s starting to sound like business again, Wrex.”

Wrex shrugged. “Everything comes back to it sooner or later. Bakara would like to see you, though. And there’s 6 or 7 kids you haven’t met yet.”

Shepard grinned. “6 or 7? You’re not sure?”

Wrex groaned. “There’s too many of ‘em, Shepard.”

Her wide grin softened into a pensive smile. “It’s a nice problem to have now, though.”

“Sure is,” he nodded. “I’ll let you get to your rounds. Got some of my own to see to.” He clapped Garrus and Shepard on the back as he walked away.

Shepard took a sip of her champagne and tilted her head up at Garrus. “What was up with the dalatrass?”

“Nothing you wouldn’t expect.”

“Not a fan of the vote?”

“No points for guessing.”

Shepard rolled her eyes, taking another sip.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk business, though.”

“Burning curiosity.”

“Don’t your people have a saying about curiosity?”

“Nope.”

“Something about dead cats?”

“Not ringing a bell.”

Garrus looked at her sceptically and she burst into giggles.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly.

Her mouth dropped slightly in surprise before closing in a smile. “Thank you.”

He moved closer to her, placing a hand on the small of her back. “I like hearing you laugh.”

She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, then pressed her lips to his. “I know things have been rough lately, but-“

“I’d rather do this than take on another Reaper any day.”

“Fair,” she nodded. “Thank you, though. For sticking with me.”

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” he murmured.

~-~-~

The party was a success, by diplomatic standards, at least. Wrex lamented as he left that not a single thing was broken. Shepard’s insistence that this was a positive thing was met with a shrug, though she knew Wrex knew she was right. And that, despite his protests, he wanted to show the Council they were wrong about the krogan as soon as possible – hence the reception.

The hall began to empty, and Shepard finished her drink. She put the flute down and looked across the hall to see Garrus stuck in conversation with a turian general.

She glided over to them, linking her arm into Garrus’s. The general took no notice of her and continued talking.

“General,” Shepard interjected at the first pause, putting on her charming diplomat voice. “I’m afraid I must deprive you of the Primarch’s company. Surely business can wait for tomorrow?”

The general turned his face to her slowly. He blinked in recognition, and nodded. “Of course, Ambassador.” He turned back to Garrus. “I’ll send you my report in the morning, sir.”

Garrus nodded. “Good evening, General.”

The general walked away and Garrus exhaled deeply. “I owe you one.”

“I can think of a way you can make it up to me,” she whispered, smirking as she pulled him out of the hall behind her.

Garrus helped her into their skycar, then got in the driver’s seat. He immediately took off in the opposite direction from their apartment.

Shepard looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Garrus feigned innocence.

He parked the car on top of the Presidium and Shepard laughed.

“You just had to get laid on top of the Presidium once, huh?”

Garrus leaned over her, pressing his mouth to her neck. “Couldn’t wait ‘til we got home.”

“Mmhm.”

He reached behind her, trying to reach her zipper. She pressed herself closer to him, but he still couldn’t quite get a handle on it.

“Backseat?” she suggested.

He nodded, and they both got out of the car and moved to the back. There Garrus found his way around her back, pressing kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, to her shoulder as he slowly eased her dress off her shoulder. She rolled her shoulder to get her arm out of the other sleeve, letting the top of her dress pool at her waist. Garrus ran his hand up the thigh of her good leg.

Shepard leaned her head against the backseat, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. Her hips rolled toward Garrus as he put his hand at her waist and his subvocals growled.

She leaned her head forward and met his gaze, his eyes full of fire, and her breath caught. He ran his hand over her breast, around her back, and unhooked her bra. She shoved it out of her lap when it fell, putting her arms around Garrus’s neck and arching into him.

He nipped at the skin on her chest, not hard enough to break skin. His fingers skimmed her hips, running up her waist. His thumb brushed over her nipple and she gasped, grasping at his back. He lowered his head and closed his mouth around her nipple, stroking with his tongue. She moaned, feeling herself getting wet. His other hand moved up to work her other nipple and his tongue strokes gradually quickened.

“Garrus,” she whispered.

He moaned in response, not stopping. Her hips jerked against him and he moved his hand from her nipple back to her thigh. His fingers barely touched her, lightly stroking up her thigh, and she gasped, burying her face in his neck. He lifted his head as he pressed a finger to her clit and she threw her head back. He stroked slowly, watching her chest heave with laboured breath. She rocked her hips against him with increasing urgency and he matched her speed. He dropped his head back to her breast, and she came with a moan after two strokes from his tongue.

He leaned back as she caught her breath to take his pants off. Shepard noticed, when she opened her eyes, that his plates were already slightly open. She hummed and reached up to put her arms around his neck as she pulled him in for a kiss. She grazed his mouth with her tongue and he opened his mouth, meeting her tongue with his own. She braced one hand on his back, and lowered the other to press against the opening in his plates. It barely took any pressure to get his plates fully open, revealing his erection. She put a hand around his cock, stroking him, and his subvocals hummed louder.

She leaned back and he moved over her, but Shepard started slipping off the side of the car seat.

"Hm." She looked up at Garrus, smirking.

Without another word, Garrus moved to the floor of the car on his knees, helping Shepard sit up. They switched places, Garrus sitting on the backseat and Shepard moving to give him room. She pulled her skirt up and straddled Garrus, letting her skirt fall around them.

"You okay?" he said in a low voice.

Shepard shifted her prosthetic leg slightly, and nodded.

"You're sure?"

She smiled, leaning in to kiss him. She found her way through the sea of chiffon skirt back to his cock, stroking again. "Ready?" she whispered.

"Mmm," he responded, subvocals reaching a loud growl.

She pushed herself up with her hands on his shoulders, positioned herself over him, and eased herself down. They sighed in unison, and Shepard chuckled as her hips rocked into him. Her blood pulsed erratically, and she tried to steady her breathing. Their steady rhythm stayed slow, Garrus tangling his fingers in Shepard's hair, their foreheads touching. He thrust to meet the rocking of her hips and she moaned softly each time. Their pace quickened, Garrus's moans joining Shepard's.

"Oh, ow, spirits-" Shepard winced.

Garrus stopped moving immediately. "What's wrong?"

"Need to change positions," she said, already lifting herself up.

Garrus eased her onto her back and she braced her prosthetic leg on the car floor.

"Better."

"Good," he said, kissing her forehead.

He pulled her skirt up underneath her and attempted to go down on her but couldn't back up far enough in the car. "Hmm."

"It's the thought that counts."

"The thought doesn't really do the trick in this case."

She giggled.

He slowly began stroking her clit and her laugh turned into a soft gasp. He turned his head to kiss the inside of her thigh.

"Faster," she whispered, and he obliged.

She closed her eyes and moaned. "Okay," she said.

He stroked his cock as he kissed her. She moaned into his mouth and he groaned, pushing himself inside her. She put her arms around his back and pulled him in as if he could never be close enough. He thrust hard and she cried out with each one, his increasing speed driving her over the edge.

"Fuck, oh- Garrus-"

She cried out his name again as she came, and he followed a moment after.

"Oh," she exhaled, panting.

He rested his head on her chest, and she put her hand on the back of his neck.

"Are you-" she said between breaths, "-gonna be able- to drive?"

"Mmmm. Five minutes."

"Okay," she said, as they drifted to sleep.


	4. stand up

Garrus tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk, waiting for the message to ping on his computer. His unfocused gaze made his screen appear doubled. He vaguely registered the image of Shepard kissing his cheek as they sat on a beach twice in his vision before the intercom buzzed, shaking his concentration and returning the world to normal.

“Sir?”

“Sentia, I’m expecting a call.”

“I know, sir, but-“

“Can it wait?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Councillor Maxentius is missing.”

“Missing?”

“He was due for a meeting with the rest of the Council two hours ago and never appeared. I don’t believe he’ll be calling you.”

Garrus grunted in annoyance. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was sure he wouldn’t like it.

He called Shepard’s direct line, but her secretary picked up.

“Riella, is Shepard in?”

“The Ambassador has gone home for the day. She said she was feeling unwell.”

Garrus mumbled, “Thanks,” before cutting off the line and standing up. He pulled his coat on as he walked quickly out of his office.

“Sir-“

“Take messages, I’ll answer them tomorrow,” he said, not looking at Sentia as he flew past.

He nearly wrenched the door off the skycar in his haste to get the door open and get inside. Every second between him and Shepard was too many. He dialled – mis-dialled, mis-dialled again, then finally got his shaking fingers to dial Shepard’s omnitool – as he drove, weaving through cars flying over the Presidium. Diplomatic immunity was a very exciting thing to throw in the traffic cops’ faces.

“Hello?” Shepard’s raspy voice answered, betraying the fact she’d been asleep.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Garrus, just feeling a bit sick. I’m at home, I’m in bed.”

“I’m coming home.”

“I’m fine, Garrus,” she repeated insistently.

“Okay.”

“Are you going back to work?”

“No.”

“Garrus.”

“You and I both know you’re not going to change my mind.”

She sighed. “See you in a bit, honey.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The line clicked just as he rounded the corner to their street. He parked and made his way to the lift, with less urgency now that he knew she was conscious, at least, but still with a speed to his gait.

He walked into their flat and up the stairs to find her in the bedroom with the lights turned off, watching _Fleet and Flotilla_.

“Told you,” she said quietly, smiling at him.

He walked over and put a hand to her forehead.

“It’s not a fever.”

“What is it? Are you in pain?”

She shook her head. “Only a little. It’s fine, Garrus, it’s just a stomach thing.”

“Have you called the doctor?”

“Garrus. I’m fine.”

Garrus’s mandibles flared.

She laughed. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m worried about you,” he said softly, his subvocals rumbling.

She reached up for him and he crawled into bed next to her and hugged her tight.

“I’m okay. I promise. Please go back to work, I won’t move from here.”

He shrugged, re-positioning himself under the duvet. “Don’t have anything else to do today anyway.”

“Now why don’t I believe that?”

“Shh, your favourite part’s coming up.”

~-~-~

Garrus was surprised to only have three messages when he arrived at work the next morning. Unsurprisingly, all three of them were from the Council.

He opened the vidcom and called the Council, hoping not to have to leave his office to see them in person. He sighed in relief when they answered.

“Primarch,” the asari councillor nodded her head curtly. “I’m afraid we have an unfortunate situation to deal with.”

“I know,” Garrus said. “I’ll find him, I just need some time.”

“That’s the problem, sir. We don’t have time. We can’t hold any votes, we can’t make any decisions without the input of all council races.”

Garrus nodded, thinking. The options, as he saw them, were either to find Maxentius or appoint an interim councillor. Neither option seemed particularly appealing – either would likely upset Maxentius equally.

Sometimes he missed the days when he believed putting a bullet through someone’s head was the best way to solve a problem.

“Sir?”

“I’ll find Maxentius. I’m afraid you’ll need to stall a few days while I find him.”

“Understood, sir. We’ll do what we can.”

Garrus sighed, leaning back in his chair. He could call and email around, but if word spread of the panicked Primarch searching for a lost councillor, he feared the still-tenuous peace of the Citadel would disappear overnight. He could search himself, but that wouldn’t stay secret for long either, and even if it did, how would he track down one man who could be on any planet in the entire galaxy, as far as he knew?

Even having done the job several years, he wasn’t sure he was cut out for this Primarch thing. He made a hell of an adviser, but leaving the final decision up to someone else wasn’t something the Primarch could do.

Well. Not a normal Primarch.

He dialled Shepard’s personal line.

“Hi, honey,” she answered.

“Hey. Feel like solving a mystery?”


	5. sing hallelujah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry chapters are coming in a bit slow, my final paper deadline is looming so I’ve been writing my research paper instead of fic. And all the remaining chapters are a bit meaty so it’s just gonna be a bit between chapters. It is coming, though!
> 
> Some referenced Garrus/Shepard/Thane in this chapter, which you may remember but I thought I’d just throw in a reminder.

Shepard leaned against the bedroom doorway, watching Garrus pack. He grabbed undersuits, bits of armour, a few datapads, nonchalantly tossing each thing into a heap in his suitcase. Shepard couldn’t resist anymore and walked over to the bed, re-arranging the contents of the suitcase and neatly folding Garrus’s clothes.

“Was wondering how long you’d hold out.”

“New record, I think.”

He kissed her forehead and she smiled, laying a neatly folded shirt in the case.

“I won’t be long,” he said, giving the closet another once-over to make sure he wasn’t forgetting something.

“Boots,” Shepard nodded in the direction of the closet.

“I’m going to wear them,” he said. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes, Garrus,” she smirked. “I’m a big girl. Tie my own shoelaces and everything.”

“I know. I just…” His sentence trailed off as he took her hand. He looked down at it, once so strange in his own hand, but now nothing looked more natural. He raised his gaze to softly look her in the eyes. “I don’t like being away from you.”

She placed her other hand on the side of his face. “It’s just for a few days. Nothing’s going to happen.”

His subvocals purred as he leaned into her hand. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

~-~-~

Shepard had pointed out that the Primarch’s presence on Palaven was in no way suspicious, and in fact more frequent visits to Palaven would likely help put to rest the murmurs about the new Primarch’s distance from turian society. The fact that everyone in the galaxy was perfectly capable of conducting business over vidcom didn’t seem to matter to the stalwart turians. A Primarch who didn’t live on Palaven was a first, and turians weren’t fond of firsts.

Meetings were arranged on Palaven, assumed to be the Primarch’s regular check-ins with various departments. Inquiring about the whereabouts of Maxentius was of course the main objective, but Shepard had suggested he also gauge the general sentiments among the hierarchy and the general population, to get a better sense of what Maxentius might be up to.

Garrus’s first meeting with the local governors was not quite as helpful as he had hoped. Though one or two protestors had been spotted in Cipritine attempting to rouse anti-krogan sentiment, neither had drawn a large crowd, nor from the descriptions did it sound like either was Maxentius. In any case, they hadn’t even caused enough trouble to get arrested.

A few truly useless meetings with departments like taxation, transportation, education, and so forth were thrown in before meeting with the generals. Shepard had advised that meeting the military right away might look suspicious, which he understood, but he would rather have had the information he needed right away and _then_ sat mindlessly through the latest pothole drama on the Mehrkuri Highway, rather than the other way around.

Reports in hand, Garrus retired to the Primarch’s apartment, which was, technically, his, but it felt wrong to think of it that way. He had only stayed in it two nights previously, when he and Shepard came for the official ceremony proclaiming him Primarch. He flicked the lights on and winced at the thick layer of dust coating every flat surface he could see.

He put the datapads down on the table in front of the sofa and started for the fridge, then stopped, realising there would be nothing in it. He walked back to the sofa and sat down, pulling up delivery options on his omnitool. The new message notification lit up in the corner. He left it for the moment, scrolling through delivery menus. He chuckled at a few new restaurants promising dextro versions of levo human classics before settling on some non-descript noodles.

He closed the omnitool, picking up the reports from the table with a sigh. He scrolled through absentmindedly, his eyes scanning but not comprehending phrases like “provisional results show stagnating improvement,” and “12% retention decrease.” He didn’t realise until the doorbell rang that he had drifted off at some point. He answered the door, poured his noodles into an acceptably clean bowl, and settled back on the couch.

The new message notification from his omnitool beeped again. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, pulling up the omnitool. Both messages were from Shepard.

Subject: [no subject]  
From: AMB H. Shepard-Vakarian  
To: Primarch G. Shepard-Vakarian  
Hey honey, I was a bit later getting back today than I expected and I’m about to collapse. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I hope you weren’t too bored in your meetings.

Garrus’s mandibles flared as he pulled up the second message.

Subject: Calm down  
From: AMB H. Shepard-Vakarian  
To: Primarch G. Shepard-Vakarian  
By ‘collapse’ I just meant I’m tired and I’m going to bed. Stop panicking. Love you. xx

Garrus exhaled in relief, chuckling. He tried to go back to the reports, but he knew he was getting nothing from them. Shepard would know how to get something important from them. They could wait until he got home.

~-~-~

“Hi, Kolyat,” Shepard said haltingly over the comm as she paced in the study.

“Shepard. Can I help?”

“Just checking in. Seeing how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks.”

There was a long pause.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Do what?”

“This…whatever this is. You don’t have to care about me. I don’t need another mother.”

Shepard stopped pacing, leaning back against the desk. She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I know I don’t have to care about you. I do, though. But I can stop calling if you-“

“No, that’s okay. I just- I don’t want to be…”

Shepard sighed.

“I- I’m sorry,” stammered Kolyat.

“You’re afraid I’m only talking to you because you’re all I have left of him.”

Kolyat was silent.

“Kolyat…” Shepard said slowly, choosing her words deliberately. “Even before I met you, I cared for you. You were always such a big part of who your father was. Loving him meant loving you. Part of how I care about you is always going to be caring about him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you for you, too. I’ve seen you grow into such a strong individual, so sure of yourself and proud of who you are. I’m so proud of you for being yourself. And I like to know that you’re doing okay.”

There was another long pause.

“Thanks, Shepard,” Kolyat said quietly.

“Yeah,” she half-whispered.

“Hey. For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to be a great mom. You know. Someday.”

She paused for a long moment. “Thank you, Kolyat.”

~-~-~

The next day Garrus met with the generals of the turian army. Even if he didn’t learn anything useful about Maxentius from them – though he hoped he did – this was at least a conversation he felt he could contribute to. Though, as it turned out, there wasn’t much to say.

“Enlistment rates are pretty stable,” General Terentia said, not lifting her eyes from her datapad. “You get those staying in service inspired by the Reaper War, you get those bored with nothing to do in peace time.”

Garrus nodded. “That’s more or less expected.”

“Increase in biotics in boot camp, though.”

“Huh.”

“We’ll be forming more Cabals in the next decade or so.”

“I doubt that will be necessary,” General Quintus chimed in. “There has been an increase, but not by significant enough numbers to require more Cabals.”

“It might be wise to have a higher number of smaller teams than fewer large teams,” said Garrus. “As long as they’re skilled enough to handle what we send them out for.”

“You never know,” Terentia nodded.

“Anyway,” Garrus shifted his weight. “Anything, uh, else to report?”

Terentia and Quintus looked at each other. “Well…” Quintus started.

“It’s not an issue, really,” said Terentia.

“A fringe movement, at best.”

“Explain,” said Garrus.

“Just some murmurs,” Quintus said, shaking his head. “A militia, of some sort. May account for a few defectors but not many.”

“A civilian militia’s formed and you didn’t tell me until now?”

“They haven’t _formed_ , exactly,” said Terentia. “We’re keeping an eye out. We have ways to deal with it if it does pop up.”

“Any idea who’s running it?”

“No. I can get you the names of the defectors, though.”

“Do that.”

“Yes, sir.”

Garrus left the meeting wiping sweat off his face. This was going to be a problem; he knew it. The generals didn’t seem worried, but…was he overreacting? Was he worried about nothing? He had never been in their place, so perhaps they knew better than he did. His gut didn’t seem reassured, though.

His omnitool pinged with an incoming call.

“Hello?”

“Garrus,” said Shepard. “Are you busy? Are you alone?”

“I’m just leaving a meeting.”

“Oh, good. Tell me when you’re alone.”

“What’s wrong?”

“…nothing?”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“Garrus,” Shepard whined.

“Okay, okay,” Garrus said. “I’m getting in the car.” He closed the door.

“Okay.”

“Shepard, what is it?”

“I’m- I don’t even know how to-“

“Shepard?” his voice quavered.

“Garrus, I’m pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on Tumblr at avelakjar if you’d like to come say hi!


	6. steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive, massive thanks to hotot, theamazingblue_j, beetle, and stitchcasual (apologies if I left anyone out - you know who you are and I appreciate you!!) without whom I absolutely would've given up after slogging through this fic. Writing's fun again and it really wasn't for a while, so I can't thank you enough.
> 
> This chapter is rough. The tags spoil it, so at least you know it's coming, but it's rough, and I'm sorry. I promise there's a happy ending!! I promise you.

Shepard sighed, staring blankly at the television. Her teeth clicked together, jaw tense, as the sound of a laugh track on an old Earth sitcom filled the room. She wasn’t sure what was funny. Her eyes darted from the television to the door and back. She was sure she should be happy her husband was so ready to drop everything and rush to her side, but she couldn’t help worrying. His work wouldn’t get done, something horrible would happen, the world engulfed in flames...besides, she was fine. She didn’t need to be coddled. She sighed again.

The door slid open. Garrus dropped his bag in the hallway, rushing over to her on the couch. She folded her arms and scowled at him.

“This is so stupid of you,” she said.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Garrus, I told you. You were supposed to be working-“

“It’s not important.”

“It’s not important!” She threw her arms up in exasperation. “Did you find any leads, at least?”

He paused. “Do you need anything? Water? A pillow?”

She raised an eyebrow.

He sighed, sinking down into the couch next to her. “No, not really. He’s not causing trouble on Palaven, at any rate.”

“But he’s out there. And he’s going to cause trouble with the krogan, you know he is.” She chewed her lip anxiously.

His mandibles flicked as he cleared his throat. “We’ll- we’ll figure it out as we go.”

Shepard sighed, turning away from him.

His omnitool beeped with an incoming message. He silenced it.

“You should probably take that,” Shepard whispered.

He turned her head to face him again, and her eyes were filling with tears.

“Shepard, what’s wrong?” he said, softly.

She swallowed hard, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand. “Garrus, I’m so scared.”

“Babe, you’ve taken down Reapers. I don’t think Maxentius is going to be-“

“Not about him,” she whispered.

It was Garrus’s turn to swallow hard. “It’s- it’s gonna be okay-“

“What’d we say about platitudes?” She smiled, a tear escaping her eye. She took a deep breath. “This shouldn’t be possible, Garrus. This can’t- this can’t happen.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Do you want it to?”

“Of course I do.” Her voice wavered. “Of _course_ I do.”

He brushed her hair out of her face. “I’ve never known you to not get what you want.”

She laughed.

“And…for what it’s worth, you have me.”

She traced his mandible lightly. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

He placed a hand on her stomach hesitatingly, and kissed her cheek. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I know,” she whispered, leaning into his shoulder. “I know.”

~-~-~

Six missed calls from the Council later, Garrus finally returned the vidcom call from his office, slid halfway down his chair as if he were a disobedient child in school being reprimanded by the teacher.

“Primarch,” the asari councillor said with audible relief. “We hope you have good news.”

Garrus straightened his back, rubbing the back of his neck. “I…don’t have _bad_ news.”

The councillors looked at each other uneasily.

“I don’t have a lead on Maxentius, exactly.”

“Exactly? You either do or you don’t,” the salarian councillor snapped.

“I’m waiting on more information from my generals,” Garrus responded, his mandibles flaring.

“Sir,” the asari councillor said carefully, “We…we really can’t delay any longer.”

“Right. Of course,” Garrus said with a sigh. “I’ll uh…appoint an interim councillor.”

“I think that would be wise,” said the asari.

“I’ll have a name for you by the end of the day.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The line clicked and Garrus exhaled deeply. He leaned his chair back, looking up at the ceiling.

The remainder of the day was spent messaging potential candidates. Much to the council’s chagrin, he didn’t get a confirmation until 4:55 that afternoon. But he kept his word, and, with General Terentia en route to the Citadel, headed home.

He walked through the door to find Shepard standing at the kitchen counter, fully dressed and rummaging through her bag.

“Going somewhere?” He came up behind her and kissed her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“No, just got in,” she said.

“Where’d you go?”

“Doctor.”

“Everything okay?”

She nodded. “Karin and Chloe were there, too. I told them and they wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“What’s the verdict?”

Shepard shrugged, trying and failing to affect an air of nonchalance. “Everyone agrees it shouldn’t be possible. But here we are.”

“Mm.” He nuzzled her neck.

“Karin thinks it has something to do with the cybernetics.”

“Sounds plausible.”

Shepard turned around, putting her arms around Garrus’s neck. She inhaled as if to say something, but bit her lip and looked down.

He wrapped his arms around her back. “What is it?”

“I don’t know if I can let myself be hopeful, but…it could work.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done the impossible,” he murmured.

She hummed a small laugh. “I…I really want this, Garrus.”

“I do, too.”

She pulled herself closer to him and they held each other tightly.

~-~-~

Garrus arrived at his office the next morning, sat down, and pulled up his messages. He scrolled through a few important messages, only half paying attention and mentally noting which ones looked important enough to come back to later, before seeing a sender that made him freeze.

Subject: [no subject]  
From: Cr. Maxentius Cirillus  
To: Primarch G. Shepard-Vakarian  
That was a mistake, Garrus. I’ll see you soon.

Garrus’s blood suddenly ran cold. It wasn’t fear, really – anticipation, maybe. The thrill of being threatened by someone who thought they could take him. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in a very long time.

There was something else, though, that hadn’t been there before. Not fear, but…worry. If Maxentius came for him, that was one thing. But Shepard, and- _and_.

He hadn’t thought of it as ‘the baby’ until that moment. It was an abstract concept, something happening to his wife- not to. With? It was a general anxiety, it was a mystical future event, it wasn’t- it wasn’t _real_. And now, quite suddenly, it was. It was real, and it was theirs, and it was in danger.

As if summoned by mention of her name, he heard Shepard’s voice in his head. _Calm down, there’s nothing you can do now. Get to work._ So he did.

~-~-~

Three weeks passed uneventfully. Garrus received the list of defectors – a calmingly short list, and no names that stood out. Terentia’s envelopment into the Council went smoothly, though Garrus advised her to be up-front about her temporary nature. Garrus was pleased to have her around so he could covertly keep enquiring about Palaven and other turian worlds through her, looking for anything that might point to trouble. There had been no further word from Maxentius, but neither had there been any sign of him.

Shepard had been putting her effort into calming Garrus, though she was just as worried as he was. She felt the old mantle of Commander Shepard reappearing, trying to soothe her loved ones without giving away how terrified she was herself. It had been so long since Garrus was someone she tried to hide her fear from; she was far more used to him being the only person around whom she could let down her guard. She was tired, more tired than she’d been since the end of the war. She was stressed _about_ her stress, because she knew it wasn’t good for the baby.

And _that_ was a whole other issue. Her primary concern had been whether or not her body could sustain this, but now that it appeared to be doing so, she wondered what this child would even be. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. She tried telling herself biology was never her science, and she didn’t have to understand it if it was simply going to happen, but that didn’t stop her staying up all night, staring at the ceiling and thinking.

It was on one of those sleepless nights that the question was rendered moot. It was the first twinge of a cramp earlier that day that, in retrospect, should have clued her in. At the time she had told herself that pain was probably part of the process, and this particular instance was, as far as anyone knew, unprecedented, so it was equally likely to be completely fine as it was to be a problem. But as she stumbled in the dark toward the bathroom, she realised she had known all day.

~-~-~

Garrus woke to find Shepard’s side of the bed empty and cold. He leaned forward, listening intently, but didn’t hear her in the bathroom. He kicked the covers off and swung his feet over to the side of the bed, pausing with his feet on the floor. _She got up early to get ready for work,_ he told himself. _No, something’s wrong. No, everything’s fine._ He didn’t move. He needed to know what was happening. He didn’t want to know what was happening.

He found himself halfway down the stairs before he realised he’d gotten up. He walked into the kitchen and found Shepard sitting at the table.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said with a sad smile.

He sat down next to her, pulling his chair close. She reached for his hand, and he took it in both of his. She sighed, closing her eyes.

“Is…uh…” Garrus faltered.

She opened her eyes. “No,” she said, her voice thick. She swallowed. “No, it’s…it’s gone.”

They were quiet for a moment before Shepard leaned her face into Garrus’s shoulder. He held her, stroking her long black curls gently.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Hey,” Garrus squeezed her reassuringly, “It’s not your fault. We knew it wasn’t likely.”

“I know.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I know.”

He kissed the top of her head, still stroking her hair.

They stayed like that for a while, until Shepard lifted her head with a deep breath. “Okay. You need to go to work.”

“You can’t be se-“

“I’m perfectly serious,” she said, fixing him with a stern look. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ve already messaged the doctors so if I need help I’ll have it, and you have work to do.”

“Honey-“

“Wallowing is not going to help me,” she said, holding a finger up to stop him. “I need everything to go back to normal.”

“Do we have a normal?”

She chuckled. “Fair point. But you know what I mean.”

He flared his mandibles, but nodded solemnly. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, Garrus.”

“I love you, Shepard.”

~-~-~

Garrus walked through the door to his office to find General Terentia waiting for him.

“General,” he greeted her warily.

“Primarch,” she said, nodding. “Do you have a moment?”

He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, seating himself in his own chair. Terentia sat down, immediately folding her hands, then unfolding them, then folding them again. Garrus inclined his head.

“There’s been an- incident.”

“An incident.”

“Councillor Maxentius, sir. He’s assembled a militia. There was a rally in Cipritine.”

Garrus stood up and turned toward the window, trying to hide his concern.

“There’s only about 50 of them, but-“

“But we can’t let this go.”

“We’ll form a hastatim immediately.”

Garrus sighed. The Hierarchy’s long-standing procedure for dealing with citizen militias was, much like everything else in turian society, brutal but effective. Safe camps were established to allow peaceful surrender, and hastatim – glorified execution squads – were sent to hunt down any last hold-outs. If they didn’t surrender, they would die. Fortunately, the efficiency of this system meant it rarely needed using; why bother forming a militia when the Hierarchy could put it down so easily?

It was the rarity that concerned Garrus. Maxentius knew this militia wasn’t going to be successful. So what was he really trying to do?

“Hold off if you can.”

Terentia paused. “Sir?”

“I have another plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm avelakjar on Tumblr if you want to come say hi!


	7. feathers

_You would think,_ Garrus huffed to himself, _Nothing she could do could surprise me anymore. Yet here we are._

His breathing was shallow and rapid as he marched into Shepard’s office. As he opened the door, she was just standing up and shaking Admiral Hackett’s hand. Hackett turned as Shepard smiled over his shoulder at Garrus.

“Primarch,” Hackett said tersely, inclining his head in mandatory respect.

“You can’t be serious,” Garrus seethed.

“Garrus,” Shepard said, warning in her tone.

“This isn’t an Alliance issue. You shouldn’t get involved.” Garrus fixed Hackett with a fiery blue gaze.

“The Alliance isn’t getting involved. The wife of the Primarch is,” replied Hackett, with a sharp icicle edge to the coolness in his tone.

“Admiral, I’ll keep you posted,” Shepard said, diplomatically gesturing toward the door.

“I’ll look forward to your report, Captain.” Hackett walked briskly from the room and the door slowly closed behind him.

“At least I got a promotion,” Shepard half-joked, smiling at Garrus as she walked around her desk.

He stood stone still, not smiling back. “Shepard, this isn’t your job-“

“My job is keeping the peace _we_ busted our asses to secure.” She put a hand on his upper arm and looked up at him with determination in her eyes. “I did _not_ come this far to see the galaxy fall apart. After _everything_ we did. The future of the turians is important to me not just because of you, but because this is _everyone’s_ future.”

He looked at her with a mix of tenderness and admiration, and brushed a loose curl off her face.

A small smile flashed briefly across her face. “What?”

“That’s the Shepard I fell in love with.”

She tilted her head to the side, smiling up at him. She stood on her toes to reach his mouth and kissed him. He held her tightly, as if his arms were the only thing keeping her standing. She broke the kiss and nestled her face into his shoulder, hugging him back.

“I know you can do it,” Garrus said softly. “I know I shouldn’t worry, but…I can’t lose you. Statistically speaking, we shouldn’t have survived as long as we have. And I’m just…so worried that it’s going to catch up with us.”

Shepard leaned back to look up at Garrus. “Nothing’s chasing us anymore, Garrus.” She put a hand to the side of his face, and he covered it with his own hand. “And you know I would have to do this no matter how dangerous it is.”

“I know.”

His hand dropped, and she caught it in both her own.

“Do I have you on my six?” she asked, smiling.

“Always.”

~-~-~

Shepard walked next to Garrus as they approached the docking bay, trying to keep in step with his long, slow strides. She deliberately quelled the urge to run all the way up to the ship. She almost thought she couldn’t remember the last time she was this excited, but she could. Closing her eyes briefly to push that thought to the back of her head, she took a deep breath and kept walking. Garrus looked at her inquisitively, but she shook her head, and he returned his gaze forward with a short nod, accepting that as all the answer he needed.

They approached the ship, and Shepard couldn’t stop herself from breaking into a joyous smile. She clasped her hands over her chest and beamed up at Garrus.

A swaggering figure descended the walkway and grinned as he caught sight of Shepard.

“Well, well, well. Finally come to take your ship back, Lola?”

“James!” Shepard exclaimed, walking over to meet him with a skip in her step.

He stopped in front of her and saluted. She gave him a bemused look, then leaped on him in a hug. He laughed, hugging her back.

“It’s good to see you, Commander,” Shepard said.

James smirked. “Yeah, you too, _Captain,_ ” he emphasised. He turned, grinning, to Garrus. “How’s it going, Scars?”

“That’s Primarch to you, Jimmy,” Garrus said, cocking a hip as he shook James’s outstretched hand.

“Nah.” James made a dismissive gesture. “Fair trade, Scars.” He jabbed a finger into Garrus’s chest. “If you’re saddling me with Jimmy, you’re still Scars.”

Garrus chuckled, leaning into his other hip. He folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head up, looking down at James. “Fair enough.”

Shepard looked up at the Normandy like a proud parent. “How’s she been?”

“Better than ever,” said James. “It’ll be good to have you back, Lola. Doesn’t feel right without you.”

She smiled. “Thank you, James.”

“Come on up,” he said, gesturing toward the ship as he walked. “There’s a couple people I know’ll be excited to see you.”

They walked into the shuttle bay, James and Shepard side-by-side with Garrus half a pace behind. Shepard looked around at the mostly empty bay until she saw a familiar face behind flying sparks from a power tool as he worked on the Kodiak.

“’Ey, Esteban. Come and be sociable,” James yelled across the bay.

Steve Cortez turned off the tool and wiped sweat off his brow, setting the tool down on a crate as he made his way over. “Hope you’re here to put Mr. Vega in his place, ma’am. You wouldn’t think he’d be capable of getting _more_ cocky, but-“

“Esteban.” James crossed his arms over his chest, playing at toughness but unable to keep himself from smirking. “The captain didn’t get reinstated to come listen to you whine.”

Shepard beamed. “Always a pleasure to see you, Steve.”

Steve saluted. “Pleasure’s all mine, Captain. Good to have you back. Primarch, hope you’ve been well.”

Garrus inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Likewise, Cortez. We appreciate the warm welcome.”

“We’ll let you get back to the shuttle. I’ll come back and catch up when we’re underway,” Shepard said.

Steve nodded. “Ma’am.”

James escorted them to the lift and up to the bridge. An awestruck hush fell over the crew members a few feet ahead of them, almost like a visible ripple. Nervously, unfamiliar faces holding back various levels of fear, excitement, and nervousness saluted her, and she nodded in as warm and kind a manner as she could manage to put into a simple nod.

At the end of the bridge, she saw the back of a familiar baseball cap directly ahead of her, and the top of a shining silver head in the co-pilot’s seat. The silver head turned slightly to the left.

“We have company, Jeff.”

Joker turned his chair around. “Captain! Miss me?”

“You know it, Joker.” Shepard smiled, putting a hand on her cocked hip. “EDI, is he being good?”

EDI pondered this for a moment. “For a given value of good, yes.”

“Ah, EDI. Never change,” laughed Shepard.

“I will not,” EDI chirped.

“We’re ready to go on your command, Captain,” said Joker.

“Chart a course for Palaven. I’ll come back before we set off.”

“Aye-aye, ma’am.” Joker saluted, turning his chair back to face the controls.

“Oh, Shepard?” EDI chimed in, looking over her shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Welcome back.”

~-~-~

Entering the commander’s cabin for the first time in nearly four years was, surprisingly, not as jarring as Shepard expected. She missed the fish and the hamster, but found some of James’s alterations amusing.

“Clever,” she said appreciatively, touching a biotiball poster taped onto the aquarium. The blue light of the tank shone through the Maestro player on the poster, giving them a faintly biotic-esque glow.

“Yeah, I thought so.” James said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I hope it’s not too…weird.”

She shook her head, still looking around the room curiously. Her bookshelf, the previous location of her only prized possessions, was now covered in sweatbands and a pile of magazines. An empty tequila bottle with two shot glasses, one still half-rimmed with salt, and some dry lime slices sat on the desk next to the terminal. She chuckled when she saw them.

“Ah _mierda_ , sorry, Lola,” James said, quickly drawing the line between her laugh and the mess. He cupped his hand and pulled the lime rinds off the desk, tossing them into the bin under the desk.

“It’s okay, James, really,” she said reassuringly. “You know, you didn’t have to do this. I told you, we’d be happy to bunk in crew quarters.”

“No, ma’am,” James said as he scooped the bottle and glasses up. “You’re in command. You get the commander’s quarters.”

“I’m only temporary,” she said, matter-of-factly.

James dropped the bottle in the bin, setting the glasses on the bookshelf. He sighed. “Lola.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “No matter who’s in this cabin, no matter who’s commanding the Normandy? She’s always yours first.”

She smiled. “Thank you, James.”

“Anytime. Hey,” he pointed a finger in her face to emphasise his point. “ _Anytime._ ”

Garrus walked through the door and James and Shepard turned to face him.

“What’s the verdict?” Shepard asked, folding her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow, smirking. “Have they thoroughly de-calibrated your guns?”

James’s entire frame shook with hearty laughter. Garrus narrowed his eyes, flaring his mandibles.

“Well they’re fine _now_ ,” he pouted.

“I’m sure they are, dear. What would I do without you?” Shepard said with a grin. She took a few steps toward Garrus, swinging her hips.

“You’d have sub-optimal guns, for starters,” Garrus said, a slight growl to his subvocals. He stepped forward to reach her, and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” James said, throwing his hands up and averting his gaze as he walked toward the door. “Don’t delay departure too long, Lola.”

“No promises, James!” Shepard called after him.

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh,” James groaned as the door closed behind him.

Shepard laughed, turning her face upward to Garrus as he encircled her with his arms. She draped her own arms around his neck, standing on her toes.

“You okay?” Shepard asked softly. The mirth was still present in her face, though increasingly tinged with concern.

“Yeah, just…weird to be back. Glad there’s still a few familiar faces.” Garrus rubbed her back with his thumbs.

She smiled, a bit sadly. Her arms pulled against his neck as she sank down on her feet. “I know what you mean.”

“Yours is the only face I need to see,” Garrus whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead back, and hummed contentedly. “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s go save the world again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at avelakjar!


	8. light a candle

The plan had seemed so much easier before the final descent onto Palaven. Just talk the armed militia down. Of course! So simple. What could go wrong? But Garrus felt his stomach plummeting along with the Normandy.

He wished Shepard was doing it. It was a Shepard plan, _talking_ to people instead of fighting them, winning battles with words instead of guns, brokering peace with a kind smile rather than a treaty at gunpoint. He wished more than ever he had her easy sense of diplomacy, though he knew now it didn’t even come easily to her. He remembered the awe with which he’d watched her give a speech to the Normandy crew before the Collector base – he remembered her confidence, her fire, how absolutely sure she was that her team was unbeatable – and he remembered her crumpling into his arms when they got back to the ship, shaking with sobs of pent-up anxiety and fear being released. He knew how good she was at her best, and he knew what that took from her; he could no longer mistake her feigned confidence for ease. Still, her best seemed to him worlds away from his own best.

Garrus sat in bed next to Shepard, staring without focus at a datapad, scrolling occasionally when he remembered to. Shepard’s head lay in his lap and he listened to her slow, steady breathing as he stroked her hair. She groaned, shifting slightly, then re-settling. Garrus hummed inquisitively.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. Her eyes remained closed. “Just not feeling great.”

“That’s not fine, Shepard.” Garrus brushed her hair back so her face was visible. She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye.

“It is,” she said. She squeezed his leg reassuringly. “Promise.”

“15 minutes to dock, Captain,” Joker’s voice came in over the intercom.

“Thank you, Joker,” Shepard said weakly.

Garrus’s subvocals hummed with unease. “You don’t have to see Sol, you know.”

Shepard pushed herself upright, barely stifling a groan. She grimaced, tightly closing her eyes shut, then opened them, smiling with exertion. “Maybe I want to see Sol.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” His usual deadpan humour wavered, betraying his concern. He reached forward to touch her cheek gently. “Shepard, if you need to rest-“

“I don’t. I’ll be okay, Garrus.” She straightened her back, closing her eyes and rolling her shoulders back.

He furrowed his brow and clicked his mandibles. “You don’t have to pretend to be alright, Shepard.”

She smiled, gently placing her hand on the side of his face. “We both know that’s not true.”

“It’s not true around me,” he said curtly.

Shepard’s gaze fell as quickly as if she’d been hit. She chewed her lower lip. “You’re right.” She leaned sideways against his arm, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

He looked down at her, quickly turning his head. “Can I have that in writing?”

She playfully punched his arm. He chuckled, putting his arm around her.

“You know what this is, though,” she said quietly, not looking at him.

They were silent for a moment, not shifting their position, sitting next to each other on the edge of the bed. The bubbling of the aquarium was the only sound.

“Yeah,” he responded.

~-~-~

General Quintus met Garrus at the dock. They shook hands wordlessly, and began walking toward the military headquarters. The general quickly fell in step with Garrus, both of them taking long, quick strides. They were halfway to the building before Quintus spoke.

“You sure you know what you’re doing, sir?” His tone carried forced levity unconvincingly.

“No.” Garrus held his chin high, looking determinedly forward. “But I have to try.”

Quintus looked at him as they continued walking. Garrus noted the head movement, but refused to turn his own head. After a few moments, Quintus sighed, realising that was all he was going to get.

“Do you have something to say, General?” Garrus said, equalling Quintus’s affected lightness.

Quintus hesitated. “With all due respect, sir…you sound a lot like her.”

“Ha,” Garrus exhaled. “Then maybe we have a chance.”

They arrived at Quintus’s office. The guards at the door saluted Garrus and he inclined his head as they passed through. More guards posted inside saluted him, and Maxentius and two other turians seated in front of Quintus’s desk turned, but did not stand.

Two chairs sat behind the grey steel desk. Quintus took one, while Garrus circled around, standing behind the other chair with his hands on the chair’s back. Sunlight filtered in through the heavy navy curtains behind him, and he felt the warmth on his back. He glared into Maxentius’s eyes, and Maxentius glared back.

“Make it quick,” Maxentius said flippantly.

Garrus bit his tongue, forcing himself to take a deep breath before speaking. “I think you agreed to meet us here because you know what our alternative plan is.”

Maxentius’s face hardened.

“I’m happy to order the hastatim on you, believe me,” Garrus continued. “But I don’t think that’s necessary. I think you and I can settle this like reasonable men.”

Maxentius huffed. “You call yourself reasonable, giving the krogan free reign over the galaxy?”

“Oh come _on_ ,” Garrus rolled his head back.

“You know the krogan are violent and aggressive,” Maxentius spat. “Giving them a seat on the Council is just handing them the galaxy on a silver platter. They’ll destroy us all and you’re opening the door and inviting them in.”

“I didn’t take down Reapers with my own damned gun to still have to put up with my great-grandfather’s rhetoric,” Garrus raised his voice, fire in both sets of his vocals.

“You think there aren’t still krogan that want revenge on the turians for the genophage?” Maxentius stood so quickly the chair fell over behind him.

Garrus leaned his weight forward, looming into Maxentius’s face. “I know there are, and I know Urdnot Wrex is giving them the same kick in the ass I’m giving you now.”

Maxentius leaned back, folding his arms over his chest, but said nothing.

“We did not come this far just for things to remain the same,” Garrus continued, straightening his back and standing as tall as he could. “We did not make allies just to abandon them as soon as the war was over. Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to learn to let go of this hatred. This isn’t the world it was before the war. That’s never coming back.”

“That’s not up to you,” Maxentius hissed.

“It’s already done,” Garrus said, his voice level but sharp. “And that wasn’t up to _you._ ”

Quintus cleared his throat. “Whether or not you agree with the Primarch is not the issue,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Isn’t it?” Maxentius sneered.

“No,” Quintus said, the veneer of patience in his voice perilously thin. “You have a simple choice to make. Call the militia to stand down, or I call the hastatim to take care of it.”

“Please,” Maxentius smirked. “Martyr me.”

“Not a turian alive would call you a martyr for being put down by an execution squad because you refused to honour the allies who saved Palaven,” Garrus said, crossing his arms over his chest and swinging his weight onto one hip. “None of us would be here without the krogan, and everyone knows it.”

The turians seated on either side of Maxentius, who had calmly and quietly observed until this moment, turned to look at each other, unease plain on their faces. Garrus’s brow plates raised. “Something to say, gentlemen?”

Maxentius turned around to face the one on his left, who pushed himself out of his chair slowly and shakily. “H-he has a point, sir,” the turian said.

If Maxentius could breathe fire, Garrus was sure the room would be ablaze. Maxentius fumed, whirling around to face the other turian, silently daring him to speak. The man stood, facing Quintus and steadfastly ignoring Maxentius’s basilisk glare.

“We’ll make the call, sirs. The militia will stand down.”

“Like hell it will,” Maxentius spat. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, knocking his chair over as he left. The guards moved to follow him but Garrus held up a hand.

“Let him go. He isn’t a threat.”

Maxentius’s sidekicks shifted their weight nervously, looking back and forth between each other and Garrus. Garrus walked around to the other side of the desk, grabbing the nearest man’s arm and flicking his omnitool to life.

“You’ll make the call before you go,” Garrus said, looking the turian directly in the eye.

~-~-~

Shepard leaned back in her chair on Solana’s porch, closing her eyes and breathing in the warm air.

“I thought Palaven would be too hot for humans,” Solana said, bracing her feet on the railing and pushing her chair onto its back two legs.

“It’s cold on those ships,” Shepard said, opening her eyes and smiling warmly. “This reminds me of summer on Earth.”

“Mm,” Sol hummed, looking out over the ground. The grey stone extended down the hill from Sol’s house to the river at the bottom. The air above the stone wavered with heat. The sun sparkled in the gently flowing river and glinted off the tops of the tall silver buildings in the distance.

“Wonder how it’s going,” said Sol, as if reading Shepard’s mind as she looked at the distant towers.

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” said Shepard. Her voice sounded foreign even to herself, though she suspected it didn’t sound different to anyone else; the difference, she realised, was in how it felt to convey confidence she truly felt, as opposed to putting on a brave face to cover her uncertainty. _This might be the first time,_ she thought to herself bemusedly, _that you’ve said everything’s fine and believed it._

Sol shook her head, chuckling. “Life sure is funny.”

Shepard cocked her head inquisitively. “How so?”

Sol pushed her legs off the railing, briefly rocking her chair further backwards, before setting her feet on the ground. “My stupid big brother being the Primarch. I mean, he isn’t stupid. But he was.”

Shepard laughed, looking wistfully into the distance. “He was. Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

“Ooh, blackmail material,” Sol said deviously, steepling her fingers.

Shepard raised an eyebrow at Sol, who threw her head back laughing dramatically. She recovered, taking a deep breath. “He is different now, though.”

“Mm. He always had his heart in the right place. He just…didn’t think,” said Shepard, punctuating her last two words with a nod of her head.

Sol looked at Shepard in her curious way of appreciation combined with amusement. “Yeah, that’s what it is.” Sol returned her feet to the railing, rocking her chair back once again. “’s your doing.”

The side of Shepard’s mouth tugged up in a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Deep in thought – reminiscing on the Garrus she met on the Citadel, comparing that hot-tempered would-be superhero to the Primarch she now knew – her gaze lacked focus.

“You sure know how to take a compliment,” Sol said flatly.

“Sorry,” Shepard said, shaking her head. “Thank you. I mean, I think I helped. He always had it in him, though.”

“Just needed a pretty alien to kick his ass onto the right track.”

Shepard laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

Looking extremely pleased with herself, Sol stretched her arms up over her head, then stood up. “Want some coffee?”

“Oh, no thank you.”

Sol put a hand on her cocked hip. “You sure? Bought levo just for you.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you. I really shouldn’t, though.” Shepard looked apologetic.

Sol narrowed her eyes, but before she could say anything, the front door opened.

“Hello?” Garrus’s voice echoed through the hall.

“Out here!” Sol yelled through the open back door. Shepard stood up, smiling as Garrus walked outside.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

Garrus reached for her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “We did it,” he murmured, his words muffled by Shepard’s curls.

“Hi,” Sol said, bending sideways at the waist to put herself into Garrus’s line of sight. “I am awkwardly also here.”

Shepard giggled. Garrus let go of her and looked at Sol, crossing his arms over his chest.

“All I heard was ‘mmfmfff,’” Sol continued, mirroring her brother’s gesture. “Talking into your wife’s hair doesn’t do me any good.”

“The militia disbanded,” Garrus said, shifting his weight from one hip to the other. “You’re welcome.”

“Aw, that’s swell,” Sol beamed, over-exaggerating a playful punch into Garrus’s arm. She giggled at herself, looking up at Garrus. “Seriously, though. Thanks. Good job. All of that stuff.”

Garrus pulled Sol in with a one-armed hug. She threw both her arms around his waist and squeezed.

Shepard watched their exchange with a smile, and Garrus’s gaze shifted back toward her. Her smile widened and she reached for his hand with hers. He took it, raising her hand to his mouth and kissing it.

“Ugh,” Sol groaned. “You’re gross. I’ll leave you alone.” Sol booped Garrus’s nose as she went inside, closing the door behind her.

“So,” Shepard said, moving closer to Garrus as he put his hands on her hips. “All good?”

Garrus sighed. “Maxentius’s cronies saw sense. Maxentius, on the other hand-“

“Ah.” Shepard leaned forward and pressed her cheek to Garrus’s chest. “How worried are we?”

Garrus stroked Shepard’s hair wordlessly. “I guess we’ll find out.”

She leaned back, looking up at him with a smile. “I don’t mean to be a downer. You did good, Garrus. I knew you would.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

She closed her eyes as he kissed her forehead. As he pulled back, she looked up at him, her stomach twisting in knots as she considered whether to say what she was thinking. The turmoil must have shown on her face, and he looked at her with concern. She swallowed nervously.

“Two of us.”


	9. saint jude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated some info for this between the last chapter and now - I realised I didn't give enough information up front for fear of spoiling things, and I believe it's more important to spoil things than to get people invested in something they don't want. I'm sorry to have given the wrong impression, and I encourage you to re-check the tags before continuing.
> 
> For this specific chapter, the following content warnings apply: vomiting, blood, pregnancy, infertility, miscarriage.
> 
> This one was cathartic for me to write. It's devastating for Hypatia. The bright side is that it's all uphill from here. I promised a happy ending and a happy ending there will be. But this chapter is a bummer and there's no two ways about it.

Shepard sat behind her desk, eyes closed, grimacing. “Nope,” she whispered to herself. “Nope, nope, nope,” hoping that firmly telling herself off would quell the nausea. Despite never having been successful before, she continued to persevere in optimism. Her success rate remained unchanged.

She heard the beeping of a message coming through from underneath her desk. She grabbed the towel she kept next to the bin and wiped her face off before resurfacing. She took a sip of water, then a deep breath, and opened the video call.

“Good morning, Wrex,” she said brightly. She stretched her spine, sitting up straight, her shoulders relaxed: full professional Shepard mode.

“Morning, Shepard. You look like shit.” Wrex grinned as he leaned back in his large red leather chair.

“And you look as beautiful as ever,” Shepard retorted, smirking. Her posture relaxed slightly.

“Don’t mean to get all business-y on you but we’re both busy,” said Wrex, shifting in his chair. “I’ve got a councillor for you.”

Her face lifted and a hand clasped over her heart. “Wrex, that’s wonderful!”

Wrex groaned non-committally. “Eh. You know how these things go with us.”

“What do you mean?” Shepard’s brow furrowed.

Wrex shrugged. “Half my people love her. Half of the rest don’t care. The rest of them hate her. But those are the same people who think we should be waging a retaliation war instead of building bridges.”

“Sounds depressingly familiar,” Shepard said with an exasperated sigh.

“Yeah, heard about Palaven. Garrus really stepped it up. Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

Shepard smiled. “Are you _impressed_ with _Garrus_ , Wrex?”

“No,” Wrex said with a pout. “Hey, you wanna come to Tuchanka and meet this councillor or not? I’ll gladly have them shoot the Normandy out of the sky as you approach instead.”

“No you won’t,” said Shepard, laughing.

“No, I won’t. Anyway. I’d like to have you there. Remind people why we’re doing this.”

“I’d be honoured,” Shepard said sincerely. “I can be there next Monday.”

“Good. See you, Shepard.”

“See you, Wrex,” she said, leaning forward and hitting the button to hang up. She let out a sigh, rested her forehead on the cool desk, and clutched her stomach.

The machine beeped again and Shepard groaned loudly at it. She considered letting it go to her secretary for a few rings, but responsibility got the better of her. She rolled her shoulders back, sitting up straight again, and pressed the button.

“Hey, honey,” Garrus’s voice was low and comforting.

She gratefully collapsed, abandoning good posture to lean forward on her arms on the desk. “Hey.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice coloured with worry.

“Mm. Everything hurts.” She propped herself up with one hand along the side of her face. “I’ll be alright. Wrex has a councillor, we’re going to Tuchanka on Monday.”

“Do you need to go home? Or I can call Karin-“

“It’s fine, Garrus,” she waved him off. “Tuchanka? Monday?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said distractedly.

She forced a smile. “Hey. I thought of a name.”

Garrus’s face brightened. The worry settled back in noticeably after a moment. She wondered if either of them were capable of genuine joy without fear lurking behind it anymore.

“Iset,” she said, jogging him out of his retreat into anxiety.

“Iset,” Garrus repeated. He hummed to himself, and repeated the name again.

“An Egyptian goddess,” Shepard explained. “Not exactly a family name, but…well. I don’t like any of the family names,” she shrugged.

“Is that like Isis?” Garrus asked.

She smiled to herself, amused that he’d listened to her rambling about mythology names. “That’s what the Greeks called her. You married an Egyptian, your kid’s gonna have an Egyptian name.” She playfully tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

He laughed. “Okay. Next one gets a turian name, though.”

“Deal.”

They looked at each other, both of them aware of the inherent optimism of using the word “next,” as if the current one was a guarantee, and neither of them wanting to acknowledge the awareness that one was still unlikely. The fear resettled over them, the thought that no one, not even the doctors, really knew what was happening. The uncertainty that Shepard could get through this.

Shepard bit her lip, wanting desperately to fall into Garrus’s arms, gazing almost spitefully at the video screen as if it was at fault for keeping them at work.

“I should get back to work,” Garrus said, breaking the long silence.

Shepard nodded wordlessly, pushing herself up off the desk.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you,” she whispered back. The line clicked, and Shepard sunk back into her chair, arms wrapped around her stomach and eyes closed.

~-~-~

She awoke in pain – a sharp, piercing pain. Her mind warred with itself, trying not to believe it, as if bargaining or ignoring it would change what had already happened. _If I stay in bed, if I go back to sleep, I’ll wake up and everything will be okay._ She closed her eyes tightly, ignoring the light behind them, the sun rising, the birds chirping. Everything seemed to taunt her, every sound, every sight grounding the world in reality, disintegrating Shepard’s hold on the world of dreams.

Her alarm went off. She felt the cold wetness surrounding her, unlike any other pool of blood she’d found herself lying in. The feeling was both familiar and foreign. She pulled the pillow out from behind her head and held it over her face, trying to drown out the sound of the alarm. She felt movement in the bed next to her and a rough three-fingered hand on her upper arm. She sighed, took one hand off the pillow, and hit various things on her bedside table before finally hitting the alarm button.

Garrus lifted the edge of the pillow. “Shepard?”

She sighed. “I’m up.”

“Are you-“

She interrupted him by sitting up, letting the pillow fall into her lap. “No,” she whispered. “I’m not okay.”

Garrus swallowed audibly. His hand hesitated, hovering over her leg. He pulled it back, then rested it on her thigh and looked up at her. She met his gaze and the look on his face shattered the already-broken pieces of her heart. Garrus always said he expected the worst so he could be pleasantly surprised; she suspected – no, she knew – he had been, if not expecting, at least hoping harder than he’d ever hoped for the best. It was more than mere disappointment; it was as if he had held the world in his hands and watched it shatter.

Her throat was thick and she tried to say his name, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. She reached for him and he held her as she let the tears escape, her body racked with sobbing. She felt his chest rising and falling erratically and squeezed him as tight as she could. The tears ran out, and she felt utterly empty.

The last time, she had stripped the bed by herself. Garrus helped her this time. She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse with his help. She floated, only slightly outside her body. Her arms were heavy, clumsy. Her legs felt weak, as if constantly buckling but catching herself. She closed her eyes and the world spun too fast.

She didn’t remember boarding the Normandy, or taking off. She blinked and went from her bedroom at home to the Normandy’s med bay, with Karin Chakwas taking her blood pressure.

“I’m so sorry, Shepard,” Karin whispered, catching Shepard’s eye as she took stock of her surroundings.

Shepard closed her eyes, turning her head to face the wall. “It was inevitable,” she said in monotone.

“You don’t believe that.”

Shepard turned her head to the ceiling, closing her eyes as a tear she didn’t know she still had escaped the corner of her eye. “No, I don’t.”

~-~-~

The mantle of Commander Shepard was almost a comfort; returning to the stoic, brave, confident façade was a return to something she knew, someone she knew how to be. Being heartbroken wasn’t new to her, but having nothing to hide it under was. It was a relief to have no choice but to act like she was okay.

She was no longer a commander, but it was Commander Shepard who exited the Normandy onto Tuchanka: Commander Shepard, the deified war hero, a persona that existed independently of the person who was now an admiral and ambassador. That was who people wanted to see, and on seeing it, most looked no further.

She smiled brightly, allowing Wrex to pick her up in a hug. She laughed as he set her down. “Good to see you, Wrex.”

“You too, Shepard. And Garrus, I guess,” he gestured to Garrus as he walked up behind her.

“Appreciate the warm welcome, Wrex,” Garrus said. Shepard noticed his façade was not dissimilar to her own: The Primarch, not Garrus. His familiar swagger covered any sadness he felt; only Shepard saw through it. This was how he saw her every time she put on a brave face for the adoring public. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Commander,” Bakara’s warm, welcoming voice came from over Shepard’s shoulder. She turned, relief breaking through the mask of the Commander.

“Bakara,” Shepard said, taking her outstretched hand in both of her own. “It’s Admiral now, actually.”

“Ah. Well-deserved, Admiral,” Bakara inclined her head in respect.

Shepard smiled. “If I could,” she said quietly, “I’d like a moment to talk, when we get a chance.”

“Of course,” said Bakara.

Formalities were thankfully lax between them, and Shepard wondered how long this familiarity between alien races would last after them. She wished her mind strayed to future generations less. Erasing the slight wince from her face, she resumed her diplomatic smile as they were escorted to the centre of Tuchanka.

Shepard left Garrus to unpack in their accommodations, and slipped away to meet Bakara downstairs.

“Comman- Admiral,” Bakara corrected herself as Shepard approached and sat at the table across from her. “What did you want to talk about?”

Shepard took a deep breath, and paused for a few moments, suddenly unsure of how she wanted to phrase her thoughts. “I- It’s-“ She sighed. “How did you…keep going? During the genophage. How did…” She trailed off, not sure what to say.

“How did we keep up hope,” Bakara said. It wasn’t a question.

Shepard nodded, her gaze cast down.

Bakara was silent for a moment in thought. “The cruellest thing the genophage did,” she said slowly, “Was give us hope. Hope that we would be the one in a million. We knew it didn’t make us completely sterile. And we all thought we would be the exception. The miracle.”

Shepard blinked back her tears, anxiously rubbing the fingers of one hand with the other. Bakara put a comforting hand over Shepard’s. “The difference is that we knew it was a possibility. However remote, however distant. That hope led us to terrible things.”

“I know,” Shepard said, her throat drying at the memory of the dead krogan woman beneath a sheet in Maelon’s lab.

“Shepard,” Bakara said quietly, “You’ve made a life out of doing the impossible. I know it seems anything might be possible for you.”

Shepard smiled ruefully. “This might be the one thing that isn’t.”

“No one can give you the answer,” Bakara said. “I would understand if you kept trying. I would understand if you stopped.”

Shepard nodded. Bakara curled her hand over Shepard’s and squeezed. “All I can tell you is that you have been so strong, for so many, for so long. No one would think less of you for prioritising your own well-being for once.”

Shepard closed her eyes, biting her lip and trying to hold back the sobs shaking her body. She gave in, and collapsed forward, feeling Bakara’s hand on her back. She couldn’t make out Bakara’s words, but the sounds she made were soothing. She had hoped talking to Bakara would give her the answer. As it turned out, she had already known the answer; it just wasn’t a relief to know.


	10. into the fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Shepard sat on the steps outside the restored ancient city resting her elbows on her knees. She looked up at the sky; blue was beginning to shine through the solid brown it had once been. She remembered the shimmering golden sky over Tuchanka when the genophage cure was dispersed, and smiled to herself.

“I gotta confess, Shepard,” said Wrex as he walked down the stairs and plopped himself down next to her, “I’m a little hurt.”

“Oh?” she asked, halfway between concern and amusement, a smile tugging briefly at the corner of her mouth.

“What can you say to Bakara that you can’t say to me?” Wrex pulled an exaggerated frown.

She smiled, hoping sadness didn’t break through the mask. She turned her head back to the sky, looking at nothing in particular. “It’s nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing,” said Wrex. The light humour left his voice. “You’re my friend, Shepard. I don’t throw that term around. Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

Shepard was silent for a moment, chewing pensively on her lower lip. “I know.” She returned to silence, looking up at the sky again. Eventually she sighed, and continued. “Bakara…has experienced things…that you haven’t, Wrex,” she said carefully.

“Ah.” Wrex shifted his weight, re-settling himself on the step.

Neither of them spoke for a long while. A breeze picked up, softly whistling and picking up bits of sand on its way across the planet surface. The long blades of grass peeking up through the sand in various places bent under the wind, more and more of it revealed as the wind swept the sand away.

“Shit, Shepard,” Wrex said finally with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Shepard leaned her head sideways, lightly bonking Wrex’s shoulder. He put an arm around her, locking her into an affectionate side-hug.

“I shouldn’t have expected anything else, really,” she said, blinking back a tear fighting to run down her cheek.

“Nah,” Wrex said, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re used to doing things everyone said were impossible. Just can’t fight biology, that’s all.”

A tear escaped, despite Shepard’s best efforts, and she rubbed it away with the side of her hand. “Oh, is that all,” she said, laughing a little.

“Well, everyone’s got their faults.” Wrex looked down at her and laughed. “You know, Shepard, we’ve got kind of a surplus of-“

A dull rumbling sounded in the distance, accompanied by the earth shaking. Shepard jerked up, meeting Wrex’s gaze with her eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. Wrex frowned, turning to look in the direction of the sound and squinting.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Wrex said.

Shepard scrambled to her feet, already halfway up the stairs when Wrex turned around. “Come on,” she yelled over her shoulder.

Wrex ran behind her, and they quickly bolted through the halls, footsteps echoing off the stone in syncopation. Shepard stopped abruptly upon exiting the hall on the opposite side, with Wrex not far behind her. Turian fighter ships sliced through the sky above them.

“Son of a-“ Wrex growled under his breath.

He was interrupted by the arrival of Garrus, running out of the hall behind Wrex. “Shepard-“ he started.

She turned to Garrus, a weary look settling easily on her face. “Maxentius.”

Garrus nodded curtly. Wrex looked at him, his eyes narrowing. “Wanna tell me what turian ships are doing here?”

“Ex-councillor. He’s been collecting defectors, I guess some of them brought some hardware with them.” Garrus’s voice was low, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he talked. He cast his gaze downwards, avoiding Wrex’s steely glare.

Another wave of fighters zoomed overhead, a missile dropping from one of them and careening into a nearby building. A cloud of dust fell as the stone crumbled.

“We can talk about it later,” Shepard said. She activated her communicator. “Joker?”

The reply came with a background of static. “Guess you see ‘em too, huh?” said Joker.

“What can you tell me?” she asked, the business-like and hard-edged Commander Shepard voice taking over.

“Not much, they just passed us a few minutes ago,” he said, breathing harder with concentration. “We’re picking off what we can, but- shit, how are there so many of them?“

“Call Hackett, get Alliance forces in, now,” she ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Joker, cutting the comm.

Shepard turned to Garrus and Wrex with another order. “Garrus, call the troops. Joker’s getting swarmed.” Garrus nodded mutely, turning to issue the order. “And Wrex,” Shepard continued. “Have we got ground forces?”

Wrex nodded. “On a krogan planet? Always.”

“Good. Send them in with me,” she said, taking her sidearm off her belt and glancing over it.

Wrex gestured to her dress uniform. “I don’t think we have armour in your size,” he said.

“Well, I wasn’t turning up to a diplomatic affair in full armour,” she said. Satisfied with her pistol’s condition, she put it back at her side and looked up at Wrex, shrugging. “Put me in a vehicle, we’re going anti-aircraft anyway.”

“Turian forces en route,” Garrus chimed in, turning back to join the conversation. Wrex nodded in acknowledgement, turning back to Shepard. She winced slightly at the coldness in his expression.

“Wrex, you know Garrus had nothing to do with this,” she said, almost pleadingly.

“I should have seen it coming,” Garrus said glumly. “I know better than to underestimate people like him.”

“He didn’t have support, as far as we knew,” said Shepard. “You don’t expect an attack like this from a lone gunman.”

“That’s just it,” Garrus folded his arms over his chest, looking distantly to the side. “He wasn’t alone.”

“They told you the militia was standing down. You believed them. That wasn’t wrong of you,” Shepard said softly. She fought the urge to run over to him and stood rooted to the spot, biting her lower lip.

Garrus met her gaze and she saw an anger she hadn’t seen there since they tracked Sidonis down on the Citadel. She blinked back a tear, her face hardening. “Garrus, it isn’t a failure to believe better of people.”

Wrex, who had been watching this exchange silently, leaned his head back and said, “Ah.” Garrus and Shepard turned to him, and he nodded his head in indication at Garrus. “You’ve rubbed off on him.”

“I could’ve prevented this,” Garrus growled, and Shepard’s heart sank below her ribs. As proud as she was, as much as she believed he had done the right thing in putting his faith in hope, she knew how bitter the sting of regret was. The taste of it was too familiar.

Wrex slapped Garrus on the back. “Hell, Garrus, I can’t blame you for not predicting the future. It is what it is, all we can do is try to fix it from here.”

Shepard bit back her despair. It was her own guiding principle, and she recognised it. She knew the truth of it, but it was so hard not to look back over her shoulder and think how she might have done things differently, how they could have avoided this mess. And she knew how useless thinking like that was. But it took more and more strength every time to take on the problems of the world and try to fix it for the future. Every time she felt less and less able. She just wanted to rest, but the world wouldn’t let her.

The tanks rolled up and Shepard climbed up into the nearest one. Wrex and Garrus followed her into the same one, and Wrex ordered them forward. The tank cannons fired as they rolled over the rocky Tuchanka terrain, and the sounds of occasional whistling and close booming crashes. Garrus and Shepard kept their eyes on their omnitools, waiting for updates. Wrex focused on directing the krogan defence, though Shepard could feel his eyes on her and Garrus out of his periphery. Knowing they couldn’t have done better didn’t make it hurt less.

Garrus’s omnitool blinked, and he pulled the message up almost before the second blink had begun. “Yes?” he said curtly.

“Final descent into Tuchanka, sir,” said a turian Shepard didn’t recognise. “Orders?”

“Take down all turian ships not under your command.” Garrus’s voice had an edge like a sword.

“Sir?” the turian said uncertainly.

“Defectors. Terrorists. Anyone whose registration isn’t in the squad you’ve brought, I want them down. I want them down ten minutes ago, Lieutenant,” Garrus snapped.

“Yes, sir,” the turian said. The comm channel clicked closed. Wrex looked back at Garrus, and they shared a nod. Shepard’s tension eased, only as much as it could during a battle, but it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was a bit short but the next one is likely gonna be very long. It's coming along, it's coming along.


	11. out of the woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! I got you some words.
> 
> Warning for very brief dissociation and mild battlefield violence.

Sounds of the battle outside surrounded the tank in which Shepard traveled across Tuchanka with Garrus and Wrex: sickening crunches, deafening booms. It made Shepard sick to be inside, doing seemingly nothing, but there were no ground troops against which to lead an assault, and no reinforcements from the Alliance to command yet. She vaguely registered that Garrus was speaking over his comm to the turian reinforcements, but did not listen to the words forming a muted hum in her ears.

The peculiar sort of silence that takes one over despite being surrounded by noise isolated Shepard. The sounds of battle, of Garrus and Wrex ordering troops, the engine of the tank as they drove: everything distilled into a quiet, distant buzzing. Her gaze lost focus and everything seemed to blur and darken before her eyes.

“Hey, Shepard,” Garrus shook her shoulder, snapping her back to reality.

“Hm?” she hummed lightly, as if he had just woken her from a pleasant dream first thing in the morning.

He seemed temporarily thrown by her tone before continuing. “Incoming call for you,” he said, pointing to the blinking light on her omnitool.

She looked at it blankly for a moment before opening the call. An Alliance commander saluted her on the screen.

“Captain Shepard? I’m Commander Tran, SSV Nairobi. Admiral Hackett said you needed reinforcements.” Her voice sounded sure and strong, her easy, calm demeanour casting the chaos on the ground in stark relief.

Shepard exhaled – not in relief, but expelling the ennui threatening to engulf her, settling back into battle mode. “Yes. We’re dealing with air forces – support the Normandy, pick them off. The turian ships on our side are patched in to our comms, you’ll know which ones to shoot.”

“Is there a command centre to focus on?”

Shepard looked at Garrus inquisitively, and he shook his head. “No,” she said, turning back to her omnitool. “He’s in one of those ships, we just don’t know which one.”

There was a pause.

“Are we…attempting to take him alive, ma’am?”

Shepard looked up at Garrus and Wrex, who were already looking at each other with a knowing unease.

“If we can,” said Garrus, raising his voice to be heard over the omnitool. “But don’t worry too much about it.”

Commander Tran paused again. “Understood, sir. Nairobi out.”

“It would’ve been easier if he _had_ taken a command ship,” Shepard mused.

“Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed he didn’t steal a better ship from my military,” said Garrus.

The sounds of battle outside intensified. The cacophony of gunfire rose in a crescendo: evidence of the Alliance reinforcements. The tank in which they rode shuddered with each cannon blast. Shepard shifted her weight back and forth in her seat restlessly. Garrus reached over and took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. She smiled gratefully.

A bomb hit the ground next to them, blowing the tank over on its side. Garrus and Wrex were thrown to the new bottom of the tank, and Shepard fell on top of them. “Augh,” she groaned as her head hit Wrex’s armour, the thud seemingly echoing inside her head.

Ignoring the pulsing throb in her head, she grabbed a bar on the ceiling, pulling herself forward and kicking open the side door. She pulled herself out of the up-ended tank, sitting on the side and pulling her legs toward her chest as she leaned back. She swivelled around, hopping down from the tank onto the smouldering impact hole in the sand. She looked up at the battle in the sky as she heard the tank’s other occupants climb out after her. The sky was full of explosions: small, sleek turian ships firing more erratically than she was used to seeing, and Alliance cruisers dancing around them, precise blasts shredding the dwindling number of turian fliers.

Wrex joined the tank drivers, discussing the current state of krogan forces on what little information they could glean from the static-filled comms. Garrus made his way over to Shepard, stretching and rubbing sore spots as he walked.

“How’s it looking?” he asked, following her line of sight into the sky.

She paused before responding, carefully surveying the scene. “Not bad. More of us up there than them now.”

“Won’t be long, then.” Garrus groaned in a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you okay?” she said, shifting her gaze from the sky to him, the concern hardening her face not shifting.

He nodded, dropping his hand to his side. “I’ll survive. You?”

Her expression eased into a smile. “I’ll survive.” She glanced back up at the sky with her smile still on her face, though it quickly evolved into a frown. She squinted, holding her hand up to block the blinding sunlight reflecting off the sleek chrome of a turian flier. It seemed to be heading their way – and lowering toward the ground.

“Everyone, move!” she yelled, rolling into cover behind the tank. Garrus and the krogan joined her quickly ducking behind the tank, but the awaited impact didn’t come. Shepard poked her head up over the side of the tank to see the turian ship coming in for a controlled landing – not a crash. It hadn’t been shot down. She warily drew her pistol, side-stepping around the corner of the tank.

The ship’s occupant opened the hatch and stepped out, hands raised over his head.

“Maxentius,” Shepard hissed, keeping her pistol locked on him.

“I’ve come to surrender,” he glowered. “You can put that away.”

She was still as a statue, not so much as blinking.

Garrus rose and joined her, also pointing his pistol at Maxentius. “If you’re surrendering, do it,” he said, his words fast and sharp like flying shrapnel.

Maxentius lowered his arms, and Shepard took half a step forward. He glared at her as he pulled up his omnitool. “All forces, cease fire.”

Not taking an eye off him, Shepard repeated the command, and Garrus and Wrex followed. The sky fell silent, though unease still hovered in the air; the ships floated where they stopped, as if encased in amber.

Maxentius raised his chin, returning his hands to their former position over his head. “What happens now?”

“I know what _I’d_ like to do,” Wrex said, grinning with an eeriness that made Shepard uneasy. “But I don’t think Shepard will let me.”

“Good guess, Wrex,” Shepard said lightly. She lowered her pistol, casting a sideways glance at Garrus.

He held her gaze strongly, and she returned the intensity. _Please,_ she thought, knowing she need not ask.

“He’ll stand trial for treason,” Garrus said, each word authoritative in a manner that invited no bargaining. “On Palaven.”

“Am I to expect an impartial tribunal on Palaven?” Maxentius said, failing an attempt to sneer as panic broke through his constructed veneer.

“You had your chance to end this,” Garrus said, the smooth calm in his voice no less grave. “Now Palaven will end it for you.”

~-~-~

The remaining militia forces were eager to quickly surrender and accept full pardons – much to Maxentius’s chagrin. The hulking presence of Urdnot Wrex opining that it would be simpler for Garrus to allow him to mount all their heads above his throne was, Shepard mused, perhaps the best incentive they could have had. Garrus organised a transport to return the stolen turian ships to Palaven, and Shepard dismissed the Fifth Fleet reinforcements, with a message of her heartfelt gratitude.

Shepard sent word for Joker to prepare the Normandy for departure as she and Garrus met with Wrex and the new krogan councillor near the landing strip.

“Well,” said Wrex, as Shepard and Garrus approached. “Hope you can visit sometime soon without bringing a war with you.”

“You know what they say about old habits,” Shepard shrugged, smiling. Wrex laughed deeply, slapping Shepard on the back. She stumbled forward slightly with the force of it, which only made Wrex laugh harder.

“My apologies,” she said to the councillor as she recovered. “Wrex has no manners, or I’d say he’s forgotten them.”

The councillor inclined her head. “I’m just grateful to see the friendship between krogan and humans so exemplified.”

“Oh, she’s good,” Shepard’s expression brightened with excitement as she looked at Wrex, and back to the councillor. “You’ll do wonderfully.”

She chortled without opening her mouth, a deep, humming, rumbling laugh that felt like coming home. “Councillor Marala, at your service,” she said with another inclination of her head.

“Captain Shepard-Vakarian, absolutely delighted,” she said, mirroring Marala’s movement.

“Greetings to you too, Primarch,” said Marala, making eye contact with Garrus over Shepard’s shoulder.

“Likewise,” Garrus responded.

“Ready when you are,” Joker said over Shepard’s comm.

She sighed, looking at Wrex. “We should get her to the Citadel.”

Wrex pulled Shepard into a tight hug, which she returned as best she could. “I’ll keep you updated on recovery,” he said.

“Good,” Shepard said, pulling back and smiling.

Wrex moved over to Garrus. “Ah, c’mere, you,” he growled, pulling Garrus into a hug, which Garrus returned gingerly at first, but patted Wrex’s back re-assuringly.

“We’ll be back before too long,” Garrus said.

“You’d better,” said Wrex. He turned to Marala, shaking her hand. “Do us proud.”

“You know I will,” Marala said, matter-of-factly.

The three of them made their way onto the Normandy, showing Marala to her quarters after a brief tour of the ship’s amenities she might make use of on their several-hour journey. Garrus returned to the captain’s cabin, and Shepard went up to the bridge.

“You could’ve just given me the message over the comm,” Joker said as she entered the cockpit.

“I know,” she said, looking out the side window and smiling as Bakara walked up next to Wrex at the side of the runway, linking an arm in his. “Just a bit of sentimentality.”

“Ah, you and your sentiments,” Joker said, affecting a dramatic sigh. He looked up at her over his shoulder. “Once more into the breach?”

“Let’s go.”

Shepard waved at Bakara and Wrex as the Normandy took off. She didn’t think they could see her, but they waved back. She was pleased not to be alone in her sentimentality, at least.

~-~-~

Subject: Re: Surplus  
From: Urdnot Wrex  
To: AMB H. Shepard-Vakarian  
Updating you on Tuchanka recovery. Been sorting through some rubble past few days. Not many casualties, thankfully. Two in particular, though. Left something I think you’d like to take care of.


	12. up, on and over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In what may prove to be a SUBSTANTIAL bout of hubris I've decided I can finish this story before the end of the year. WOO let's go

“It is with great pleasure that we welcome the krogan to the Citadel Council,” the asari councillor concluded her speech. “We have high expectations of Councillor Marala, which we have confidence she will exceed. Councillor,” she said, turning to address Marala and gesturing to the expansive crowd before them. “The floor is yours.”

Marala stepped forward, her deep, smooth voice echoing in the Council chamber, rendering the voice amplifier nearly irrelevant. “Thank you, Councillor. It is my honour to serve the krogan people and to represent what the krogan are. We are not now, nor have we ever been, unaware of the false ideas circulated by previous generations. We relish the opportunity now to prove them wrong, to put them to rest, and to create a more unified and more understanding future for all inhabitants of this galaxy.”

She nodded to signify the end of her speech, and the crowd roared with applause. The thrum of excitement carried through the crowd as it dispersed to countless smaller celebrations: groups of friends taking their krogan members out for drinks, families going home or out for a meal after an exciting day out, enormous throngs of krogan visiting from Tuchanka and various other outposts, coming together to celebrate a victory that felt like it had been won twice – once at the end of the Reaper War, and again now.

Shepard mused happily that she had never seen so many krogan on the Citadel as she made her way to the official post-induction party in the embassies. She hoped it would not be the last time she saw such numbers. She held the small blanketed bundle closer to her chest as she followed the trail Garrus was forcing through the crowds. The crowds eased as they entered the hallway to the embassies and made their way down the stairs to the courtyard between them. Garrus stopped just before the door’s sensor range, and looked down at Shepard as she stopped at his side. She looked up at him, every joyous word she had for the occasion silently shining through her smile. He flicked his mandibles in a grin, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes and pressed back, and when her eyes opened, she saw his hand on the bundle’s back, just next to hers. They took a deep breath in unison, and stepped forward.

The door opened to an exuberant outburst from the familiar crowd in the courtyard. Shepard laughed, not because it was funny, but from an overabundance of joy that had no other way of expressing itself. The Normandy crew, most with multiple drinks in their hands, crowded around Shepard and Garrus, various cries of, “Congrats!” and “Good job, Commander!” and wordless screams of excitement filled the air around them.

“Oh, shit,” Jack said, her eyes going suddenly wide, “Should we shut up?”

“No,” Shepard laughed. “She seems to sleep better when it’s loud. It’s the quiet she can’t stand.”

“Sounds right for a krogan,” Wrex said, picking up an unopened bottle of champagne from behind a table covered with filled champagne flutes.

“Let me see,” Steve said, pushing his way forward in front of James.

“Esteban, no one’s seen yet,” James chided.

Shepard smiled, cradling the bundle in one arm and gently lowering the blanket with the other hand. “I’d like you all to meet Iset Shepard-Vakarian.”

Iset squirmed, squinting her eyes shut and turning away from the light. The crew murmured in awe and excitement – a squeak rose over the crowd from the direction of Tali – and Iset slowly opened her eyes. She blinked, looking around at all the faces looking down at her, and her face brightened as she gurgled at them all.

“She’s beautiful, Shepard,” said Liara, her beaming smile seeming to illuminate her in a brighter blue than normal.

Shepard looked up, over the crowd of people smiling at her daughter, and saw Kolyat standing at the back of the throng. Their eyes locked, and they smiled at each other before Kolyat moved to make his way around toward her. He stopped between Shepard and Garrus, hugging them with an arm around each.

“I’m very happy for you both,” he said softly.

“Thank you,” said Garrus. He returned Kolyat’s one-armed hug tightly.

“You know we’re still here for you, if you need anything,” Shepard said quietly.

Kolyat met her sincere gaze, smirking slightly. “Same goes for you,” he said. “All of you.”

Shepard closed her eyes, holding back a tear as she smiled. Kolyat moved his hand to tilt her head toward him with a gentle push and kissed her temple before retreating.

“A toast!” Wrex said, closing one eye as he popped the cork on the champagne bottle.

“Would you like a glass, Wrex?” Liara asked.

Wrex looked at her blankly before raising the bottle. “To Iset,” he said, and countless glasses raised in response, cheerily repeating the toast.

“And to Marala,” Shepard added, raising the glass Garrus put in her free hand.

“And to you, Ambassador and Primarch,” Marala returned, stepping forward from the edge of the crowd. “Without your tireless work, we wouldn’t be here celebrating.”

“This is the longest toast ever,” said Joker from his seat next to the drink table, idly tilting his glass and watching the champagne move.

Shepard grinned at him, and raised her voice as she turned back to Wrex. “May we always have too many things to celebrate at once,” she said.

“Hear, hear!” Wrex boomed, throwing his head back as he chugged the bottle.

Garrus clinked his glass on hers, eliciting a chuckle from her. She reached up to kiss him, smiling into the gentle contact as she felt his warmth spread through her.

Iset cooed, and Shepard broke the kiss to turn toward her. “Hello, sunshine,” she said, beaming. Garrus moved behind Shepard, wrapping an arm around her waist and softly tracing Iset’s face with one finger. The party’s ebullience faded into the background, and Shepard let out a breath it felt like she’d been holding for three years.


	13. 2205

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!! I've had Hypatia's story in my head for about three years, and I'm actually a little sad to have it be finished. I will miss her and her beautiful family terribly.
> 
> Thanks so much to all my cheerleaders, especially the block, to everyone who's subscribed and/or left kudos and nice comments. I really hope you've enjoyed this!

“Girls, wait for us,” Shepard called after the human and the turian girl running down the dusty Tuchanka path ahead of her and Garrus. The turian girl put a hand on her sister’s shoulder as she stopped to wait for their parents.

“Danae, stop,” said the human girl, shrugging her sister’s hand off.

“They said to wait, Astra,” Danae said loftily. Despite being younger, she was half a foot taller than Astra already, and had inherited her mother’s cool, commanding demeanour. Her dark grey-blue skin disguised her father’s blue clan markings almost completely, but she held her head high, drawing attention to them whenever she had the opportunity.

Astra sighed impatiently, rolling her eyes. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder as she looked down the road at her parents. It was her greatest source of annoyance that she couldn’t instantly be everywhere at once. This was not her first trip to Tuchanka, but it was her first time seeing a krogan rite, and she was thrilled at the prospect of seeing something completely new to her.

“Sorry, girls,” Shepard said as they caught up. “I don’t move as fast as I used to.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Danae said, a tinge of worry colouring her subvocals.

Shepard noted Danae’s tone and smiled comfortingly. “I’m alright, baby.” She linked her arm in Garrus’s and looked up at him. The silver lining his healed scars matched the shocks of silver in Shepard’s still-mostly-black hair. The look in his eyes, however, was unchanged – the same fixation of tenderness that made the rest of the world melt away and made her feel like she was floating. He closed his eyes, gently kissing her forehead, his mandibles catching her hair.

“Gross,” Astra yelled over her shoulder, already running ahead again.

Shepard laughed. “Come on, we’d better not lose her.”

“She knows we have reserved seats, right?” Danae asked.

“She’s just excited,” said Garrus.

They made their way into the arena, up to the front row of seating reserved for them in the stands. Astra was already sitting there, chatting animatedly with James Vega.

“’Ey, Lola!” James said, and Astra turned to see her parents and sister sidling into the seats next to her.

“Took you long enough,” Astra huffed.

Shepard leaned around Garrus and stuck her tongue out, and Astra returned the gesture before they both dissolved into giggles.

“How’s it going, Scars?” James said as Garrus sat next to Astra with a heavy sigh.

“Can’t complain,” Garrus said, putting an arm around Astra. “Hope she hasn’t been any trouble.”

“Nah, ‘course not. Just telling her war stories.”

“Did you really kill three guys with one bullet, Dad?” Astra said, beaming up at Garrus with awe and exhilaration.

“Well, two,” Garrus said, tilting his head with a swagger. “The third died from a heart attack, it’s not fair to take credit for that.”

“Whooooaaa,” Astra exhaled, her eyes going wide.

Shepard turned from Danae to squint at Garrus. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” responded Garrus, Astra, and James in unison.

She continued to squint, but turned her attention back to Danae, who was anxiously shredding a piece of paper with a completed crossword puzzle on it in her lap.

“Iset’s going to be just fine,” Shepard soothed. “She’s worked very hard for this. And she’s got Grunt and your Aunt Liara with her, just in case.”

“I know, but…”

Shepard reached over, hugging her daughter tight. “I know. You still worry. I do, too.”

Danae looked at her as Shepard leaned back. “You’re worried?”

“Of course. But it helps Iset to be brave if I can be brave, too. Think you can do that for her?”

Danae’s brow furrowed as she considered. She nodded. “Yes, I think I can for her.”

“What’s Danae worried about?” Astra said, leaning forward to look around Garrus.

“Just nervous for Iset,” Shepard said, rubbing Danae’s back comfortingly.

“That’s silly,” said Astra.

“No, it isn’t,” Shepard said, shooting Astra a cautionary look.

“She’s got Dad’s best gun! She’ll be fine,” Astra said, leaning back and kicking her feet up on the barrier in front of their seats.

James laughed. “You’d never be able to tell these kids aren’t related to you,” he said.

Iset entered the arena, flanked by Grunt and Liara, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Iset scanned the crowd, quickly finding her family, and waving with a grin. They all waved back – Astra most enthusiastically. Iset closed her eyes and took a deep breath, opening her eyes and looking down at the ground. Grunt walked over to her, pounding one fist into the open palm of his other hand, and Iset grinned, laughing quietly. She walked over to the keystone and pounded it with one fist.

The crowd roared again, and Iset fixed her gun on the incoming waves of varren as Liara surrounded herself with a bright biotic glow.

Danae made a tiny squeak of distress and Shepard looked at her with concern. Danae looked up at her, then back to the arena, her gaze not quite focusing on her sister. “I wish they didn’t have to kill the varren,” she said quietly.

“Why?” asked Astra, now entirely out of her seat and leaning her arms on the barrier.

“It makes me think of Aunt Jack’s Eezo,” she said. “I like Eezo,” she added, quieter.

“Eezo’s different, honey,” Garrus said. “These varren aren’t like him.”

“Mmm,” Danae hummed, unconvinced.

Iset downed the last varren with a shot centred precisely between its eyes. “Perfect!” Garrus exclaimed, punching a fist into the air. Shepard smiled fondly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Not done yet,” Grunt said, moving his head side-to-side as he cracked his neck.

Iset punched the keystone again, and they next battled waves of klixen.

“That gun is awesome, Dad,” Astra said conversationally, not taking her eyes off the fight.

“The Black Widow. That gun took down Reapers,” he said, moving forward out of his seat to kneel next to Astra, leaning his arms on the barrier next to her. Her eyes brightened as she grinned, gleefully watching the gun in Iset’s hands.

“It took down Reaper _forces_ , Garrus. Not actual Reapers,” Shepard said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved a hand back at her.

Liara wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand as the last klixen fell. Iset ejected a spent clip from the gun, picking one up from the ground to replace it. Her eyes caught Shepard’s, and under her outer shell of easy strength Shepard could see a flicker of nervousness. Shepard held her gaze, mouthing, ‘You’ve got this.’ Iset nodded, and as she ran over to punch the keystone again, Shepard reached forward and touched Garrus’s back. He turned around, and reached an arm back to take her hand and squeeze it.

Akuze happened so long ago that it almost seemed to have happened to someone else. Not only an entire lifetime ago, but an entire person ago. She’d accomplished so much since then that it was never the first thing people associated with her anymore. She was thankful for the opportunity to stop thinking about it – but when it came back, it came back full force.

She choked on her own heart in her throat when the thresher maw surfaced in front of her eldest daughter. The Black Widow in Iset’s hands did not waver, and the accompanying heavy warp projectiles and Claymore fire downed the thresher maw in record time, as Shepard would later hear. To her those few minutes seemed like hours.

Iset triumphantly held the Widow over her head as the crowd erupted in joyous, raucous noise, and Garrus stood up and held Shepard tightly to his chest as the relief flooded from her in shaking sobs. Danae flung herself in an embrace around Shepard, and Garrus moved to put an arm around her, too. Astra sat on James’s shoulder, shrieking with glee.

~-~-~

The Urdnot camp was, surprisingly, much like Shepard remembered it. Wrex and Bakara had moved into the beautifully restored stone buildings of the old city long ago, taking the majority of the movers and shakers of Tuchanka with them. There was less focus on clan membership among the krogan these days, as the priority shifted to unity among krogan and unity with the galactic population, and, as such, there was less use for the Urdnot camp. But the clans still existed, and after a rite of passage, a krogan still received clan membership. Whether the sentimentality was Wrex’s or Shepard’s, it was indeed a wave of sentimentality that led to throwing the newest member of clan Urdnot a post-rite party in the old Urdnot camp.

Iset rushed down from the old throne area to embrace both her parents in a hug as they entered the camp. “We’re so proud of you,” Shepard whispered into her shoulder.

“Thanks,” Iset said breathlessly, drawing back from them. She was still clearly riding the adrenaline high of downing a thresher maw, but her usual laid-back demeanour was beginning to show through again. “Hey, am I Urdnot Shepard-Vakarian Iset now?”

Shepard hummed thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought. I suppose you’re the first.”

“It’s your name, do whatever you like with it,” said Garrus with a shrug.

“Hmm,” she said, nodding. “I think I like Urdnot Iset Shepard-Vakarian better.”

“You got too many families, kid,” Wrex said, walking up behind her and clapping her on the back.

“I think it’s a nice problem to have,” Shepard said, grinning.

“Iset!” Astra yelled, standing on the seat of the abandoned throne. “Look, I’m as tall as you!”

“When did she get up there?” Shepard said, more to herself than anyone else.

“Neverrrrr!” Iset yelled as she bounded up the pile of rubble to Astra. Danae looked up at Astra sceptically, grimacing when Iset bounded up to Astra and met her with a headbutt.

Wrex laughed heartily, stepping to Shepard’s side to watch the kids playing. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you have two krogan kids.”

Shepard shook her head, smiling fondly. “Astra’s gonna be the death of me.”

“Well, you had a good run.” Wrex handed her a bottle of Denorian beer and tossed one across her to Garrus.

They sipped their beers, watching Iset and Astra play-fighting (and Danae probably developing a real ulcer). More young krogan slowly joined the group, congratulating Iset, talking and laughing. A young asari shyly tapped Iset’s shoulder and kissed her cheek before fleeing the room entirely.

Wrex chuckled, and Shepard covered her mouth as she laughed. “Oh, bless them,” she said.

“They grow up too fast,” Garrus said. He took a long sip of his beer.

Shepard looked at them misty-eyed, smiling at the laughter rising from the group of young people. None of them had been born in war-time. Their laughter sounded different, lacking the forced merriment she was used to hearing in the laughs of people desperately grasping at any momentary shred of happiness, knowing how fleeting it was, knowing it could be the last. It was not a happy sheen on a keen aching sadness; it was just happiness.

“Makes you feel pretty old and useless, huh?” Wrex said, his gaze shifting from the group to Shepard with a knowing inclination of his head.

She shook her head. “I do feel like they’re leaving us all behind, but I couldn’t be happier.”

Garrus’s head turned to her rapidly, a confused, inquisitive look on his face.

“I mean,” she said, wiping tears off her face, “This is what we fought for. Them.” She gestured toward the group. “To give them a world they can enjoy together. To give them a world they don’t have to fight for.”

“Ah, there she is,” Wrex said, raising his beer bottle toward her. “Never gonna retire from those inspiring speeches, are you?”

She laughed. “At least I’m still good for something.”

Garrus slipped an arm around her waist, kissing her temple and holding her tight. She looked up at him with a smile, then wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, holding her drink behind his back. The sound of her children’s laughter and her husband’s heartbeat made her smile against Garrus’s chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr at avelakjar if you want to come say hi!


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